


But what if there was no time

by KizuRai



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: (FINALLY), Character Death, Confusion, Death, Emma slowly going insane, Everything is a clue, F/F, I have a lot of run ons, Marriage, Mistakes are on purpose, Mystery, Regina dying, Riding off on Unicorns, Vortex of Evil, WTF is happening, Wedding, What in the world can I write here that won't give it away?, anyway!, but that's a stylistic choice, fully edited!, or grammatical errors, or maybe not grammatical errors, unless they're typos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-09-24 00:06:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 61,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20349064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KizuRai/pseuds/KizuRai
Summary: When she wakes up, it's dark. She can't move, she can't see, she can't feel and she can't hear.Where am I?She feels a forceful oppression, pressing her down, draining her of her energy and she's powerless to stop it.How did I get here?The question of here is relative, she's not even sure where here is.What happened?There must be some reason for being stuck here but her memory is fuzzy, like all her thoughts are being sifted through a filter.Who am I?She's not sure if she actually exists or she suddenly became sentient in the darkness.She hears a voice reverberating in the distance, it's distorted and quiet but she hears it all the same. It breaks the monotony of the silence. Someone's coming for her, they will get her out.She's just not sure she wants them to as the price might be too great.





	1. Running out of

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mippippippi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mippippippi/gifts), [soundslikehope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/soundslikehope/gifts).
  * Inspired by [But what if there was no time [ ART ]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20388775) by [mippippippi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mippippippi/pseuds/mippippippi). 

> I've been told not to say "don't read" so I won't, but read at your own risk! But regardless of the tags, please trust in me and my writing :)
> 
> I don't know why I thought it'd be a good idea to write for SQSN with a half-baked idea and being absolutely _swamped_ at work.  
Is there a plot? ...maybe? I dunno, I had an idea somewhere in here lol
> 
> Large thanks to **soundslikehope** because of course. You've kept me sane for these last few days of SQSN and you're still the best beta I know. Very sorry for being just so _depressing_ over the entire process. Honestly didn't mean to make you feel bad, regardless, you've definitely saved me, I dunno what this fic would have become without you.  
(Also, if any of you reading this see a fic on soulmate _geese_ please read it, as it's probably by Hope and I highly recommend it lol)
> 
> Also, special mention to **delicatepoem** and **angeii_k** for absolutely freaking out over the release dates with me, because if I die, it's comforting to know that at least I'm taking you all down with me lmao
> 
> Also, special _special_ mention to my very productive artist, **mippippippi** who apparently had 2 other pieces and still managed to finish them all way before the deadline (I may or may not be a smidge bitter at making my release date earlier for that) but yeah, thank you for the art, thank you for choosing this fic as your companion piece.

There are only a few things that Emma treasures in her life. Decades of surviving on the bare minimum, as well as packing up and leaving whenever the urge hits her, has taught her to pick and choose what’s necessary and what’s just plain sentimental.

She does have sentimental things, but she keeps that minimal.

The bug, for one, has been an endless source of headaches with repairs and the constant breakdowns when she’s in the middle of nowhere. But she keeps it anyway especially when the bug has been her only companion for years. And she’s grateful, if nothing else, because even though she sleeps on a nice comfy bed now, she’ll never forget how it kept her alive on days when she didn’t have a place to stay. 

Her baby blanket is another. It’s not functional like her car, so it’s been kept purely for its sentimental value, but it’s also something that kept her sane throughout the years. She used to look at it and wonder what kind of parents would knit her something like this but also leave her on the side of a highway. She dreamt up scenarios in which her parents were searching for her as well and they had to abandon her due to extenuating circumstances. Turns out they weren’t searching for her, but they didn’t want to toss her away either; it’s complicated. But she found them and she continues to keep her baby blanket anyway, for sentimental reasons that go beyond her.

Next is her son, who is not an object, and not something she can just pack up and leave with—_for multiple reasons—_but she treasures him all the same. He’s a bit of a brat, but he carries a loving and believing heart, and he was the one who pushed her all those years ago to make her the better person that she is now. He managed to forgive her for giving him away, despite the fact she was personally incapable of fully forgiving her own parents, which makes him the better of the two of them—but don’t tell him that, his smug ego is big enough as it is. She loves him and would do anything to protect him.

Then there is her wife, who, if she _ tried _ to pack up and leave with, she’d be burned alive on the spot. Though the image of picking up her wife and carrying her off somewhere is amusing. She treasures her wife just as much as her son, because after getting a taste of the happiness afforded to her, she wouldn’t know how to let go of it. And her wife makes her happy, _ very _ happy. Which isn’t surprising. What _ does _ surprise her is that she makes her wife happy too. It wasn’t easy getting to the point where they are now; years of therapy and constant reassurances battling with her self-conscious, self-loathing self who doesn’t believe she deserves this much happiness. It’s a wonder she hasn’t run off yet, which was certainly a concern for her wife and her son, considering her penchant for running when she’s feeling trapped.

But she doesn’t feel trapped. If anything, she feels more free. Her wife is smothering in just the right amounts that she feels cared for, making up for a lifetime of loneliness and neglect years of group homes have instilled in her.

Lastly, and these are not tangible things but she holds them dear all the same, are the little moments.

She doesn’t care for material items, no, but she _ lives _ for the little moments that make up all the happiness in her life. Her hand brushing her son’s hair, her lips tracing her wife’s jaw, their little family eating together and laughing, moonlit walks down to a forest clearing that slowly became their _ spot _, she can name millions more and none of them would mean anything to anyone but herself.

And she’s living in one of those moments now, breathing it in, etching it into her mind.

It’s quiet in the mansion. The only sound she can hear is the soft breathing coming from beside her. Her eyes slowly open and the whole room is illuminated from the sunlight aggressively shining from the window. They both hate waking up in the mornings, so they make sure to keep the curtains pulled aside just so the sun could disturb them; otherwise they’d never get up.

Emma struggles with sitting up, gingerly putting weight on her elbows, but she finds the sights worth it when she’s fully awake and appreciative of this quiet morning. Regina is softly snoring beside her and she can’t help but just sit and stare at the way her lungs expand and contract as she breathes. She reaches out and brushes a hand through Regina’s hair, the ring on her finger catching the sun and glittering in the bright light.

Every day she stares at this woman beside her in awe. Every day she looks at her hand and wonders how she got so lucky, because every day is a day where Regina Swan-Mills is her wife. And she couldn’t be happier because have you seen her? Regina is a beautiful piece of art.

Unable to hold it any longer, she leans down and kisses her wife on her temple, watching in fascination the moment her wife’s long lashes flutter open. Regina barely has her eyes open when she catches her staring, and she groans before turning away and burying back into the pillows.

“It’s too early,” her wife whines into the pillow and she chuckles and presses kisses all over her bed head.

“Good morning to you too,” she laughs when Regina tries to scoot away from the sun and snuggles into her chest instead.

“‘morning,” Regina mumbles grumpily before finally turning to face her and meeting her halfway on the kisses.

She loves this entire process; her favourite mornings are when her wife is still sleepy and hates the world and she would give anything to have an eternity of these mornings.

After months of sleeping together, she found out the secret that her wife is not a morning person at all; she just gives off the facade of one. The morning person in their family is actually their obnoxious son who used to wake up hours before school and bother Regina until she woke up and fed him. But ever since Emma moved in, Regina would, more often than not, make her wake up first and make breakfast for their son while she took the extra five minutes to nap.

To her delight, Emma found that grumpy, sleepy Regina is adorably whiny and annoyed at anyone and anything. Ever since moving in, there’s been more and more of these mornings where she gets to witness this Regina that just wants to be spoiled. And she wants to spoil her, forever if possible.

She swiftly moves from mouth to neck, migrating slowly downwards, and Regina moans both in annoyance but also in pleasure. “Don’t start what you can’t finish, dear.”

She stops and leans up, much to Regina’s chagrin, and pouts at her wife. “Who says I can’t finish in time?” Her wife just rolls her eyes, slips a hand behind her head and pushes her down so she can resume her warpath. She redoubles her efforts, overenthusiastically biting and nipping at the beautiful olive skin, making her wife squirm and moan, her hand inadvertently tightening in her hair.

Before she could get too far though, she hears three sharp raps on their door. “Mom, Ma, stop being gross and feed me!” She groans loudly and buries her face in her wife’s chest, feeling the way Regina laughs and pats her back in sympathy.

Her son has the worst timing ever.

“Go feed our growing son.” Regina softly pushes her off the bed, but she wraps her arms around her waist and clings on tightly like a koala.

“That little monster is old enough to make his own food.”

“You and I both know that the last time he attempted to make food, he nearly burned down the kitchen.” She’s double pouting now; her wife sounds much too awake to go along with her devious plans.

“I admit,” she mumbles into Regina’s hair, “the kid takes after me, but I learned how to cook didn’t I?”

She feels a kiss and a squeeze and then a swift shove that catches her off guard, and she tumbles off the bed. Regina laughs as Emma groans, her brunette head hovering off the side staring down at her. She’s more startled than hurt, and the shock does a good job of waking her up. “You only know how to make breakfast foods, dear, which is why you only cook in the mornings.”

She clambers onto her feet while her wife watches in amusement. “Fine, I’ll let you have that one. But don’t think I’m not going to get you back for shoving me off the bed!”

“Mmm, I’ll be waiting then.”

Emma leans down to press a kiss against Regina’s awaiting lips before she gets dressed and makes her way downstairs.

She finds Henry sitting there impatiently, a glass of orange juice already in front of him since he couldn’t wait any longer. Ever since the fire—_“It wasn’t _ that _ dramatic,” _ Henry always says with a roll of his eyes whenever they bring it up—he’s been banned from going anywhere near the stove until Regina gets the time to properly teach their son how to cook.

Henry’s head whips to the staircase when he hears her clunking down the stairs. "Finally!" her kid exclaims cheekily with his hands thrown into the air. "Why couldn't I get those parents that _ aren't _ obsessed with each other?"

"I don't know, kid, but you did push me and your mom together so you reap what you sow." She goes to grab the proper ingredients and heats up the pan.

_ “Was that what happened?” _

She turns around, frowning in confusion. “Did you say something?”

"I said that was my life's greatest regret!"

Emma smiles and chuckles, shaking her head and turning back to the pan. The kid's always been a little dramatic but he's getting more so as he hits the teenage years. It's been a little confusing for Regina—_"Emma, why is Henry in his room mumbling that his life is ending?"—_but Emma's been through it herself so she's been just taking his words in stride.

"Trust me kid, you’re gonna go through a whole lifetime of those."

“What will he be having a lifetime of?” her wife asks right as she’s plating up the food. Regina struts her way down the stairs, putting her earrings in while doing so, the epitome of grace.

She's dressed in a blazer and pencil skirt, ready for the day as Madame Mayor; her groggy wife from this morning is nowhere to be seen. Regina presses a kiss to a reluctant Henry's forehead and then goes to kiss Emma on the cheek.

“Mmm, right on time.” Emma hands her a coffee in exchange and she loves the grateful look of love she always receives for it. “I was just mentioning that he’ll have a lifetime of regrets.”

“Ah yes,” Regina’s eyes glitter with amusement as she goes to peck kisses all over their squirming son, “my little prince will have a multitude of mistakes.”

“_Ugh, _Mom!”

Emma chuckles and walks over to distract her wife with a kiss on the mouth. "Good luck, and I’ll see you at the meeting today," she says when she parts; she can see Henry in the corner of her eye gagging at the sight of them.

"Thank you, yes, I’ll see you soon." Regina beams and smiles widely before leaning in for another kiss. "I love you" she says to Emma and then another "I love you, sweetie" to Henry before she heads to the front door and steps out.

"Love you too."

"Love you, mom".

* * *

“_Ugh_, can you not?”

“Is that really what you want to say to me first thing in the morning?”

She’s at Granny’s and as soon as she entered the diner, Ruby scrunched up her face and complained. “Yes, because you’re all smiley and happy and I can smell Regina all over you. It’s too early for this shit.”

“Whatever,” she laughs, “just shut up and gimme this morning’s muffin.”

Ruby good-naturedly rolls her eyes and salutes before heading to the back and coming back with a paper bag. Emma reaches for it, but the cheeky werewolf pulls it back and stretches out her other hand with her palm up. “Pay up, Swan.” Her extortionist of a friend grins and Emma groans before reaching into her pocket, pulling out the money then slapping down 25 bucks.

“Pleasure doing business, Swan.” Ruby doesn’t even bother to count the money, knowing she paid the full amount.

“You’re a con artist,” she accuses.

“You love me.”

She wrinkles her nose in mock annoyance. “I tolerate you at best.” And she knows,the second those words are out of her mouth, it sounded exactly like what Regina would say even without Ruby raising an eyebrow at her. She waves it away as if to say “yeah, yeah, I know.”

“Please, you wouldn’t know what to do without me.” Ruby points to the paper bag. “Or those muffins.”

She’s got her there. These muffins are truly divine. Emma leans back and checks the basket on the counter; sure enough, it’s completely empty, so she’s well aware that if Ruby didn’t stash some away for her, she’d never even get a single bite out of Granny's Better than Muffin, Muffins™.

Granny's been experimenting with flavours, claiming that ever since the curse broke she’s been bored out of her mind, so she started selling her concoctions. Turns out they’re a hit, and everyone in town is always discussing what the new flavour combination could be. They've been selling out in less than an hour after the diner opens, but she's been paying Ruby extra to save some on the side for her and Regina.

Unable to resist, she rifles through and pulls out a muffin, taking an eager bite. She moans when the flavours explode on her tongue. Honey mango pecan; it’s like a pie in a muffin and she never thought those three things would go well together at all.

“Alright, alright, keep it in your pants.” Ruby, who is obviously used to customers reacting to the muffins now, barely bats an eyelash as Emma stands there having an orgasmic reaction. “Is this food porn? If it is, can I charge people for it?” the brunette asks rhetorically, which actually snaps Emma out of it.

“Okay, sorry, message received, I guess I’ll head to work now.”

“Right, go and protect our town from all those cats and dogs stuck up in trees, our mighty sheriff!”

Ruby gives her a salute and she shakes her head in amusement before playfully giving a salute back.

* * *

When she arrives at the station, there’s a buzzing in the back of her head. It’s annoying and loud and sounds vaguely like when she’s trying to start up her own magic. She shakes her head, trying to get rid of it, but it only makes it worse. She tries to ignore it, but when she steps out into the bullpen she nearly drops everything. It’s completely ransacked.

There's paper all over the floor, the cabinets are pulled open, computers and lamps—completely smashed, and the chairs are flipped, thrown halfway through the windows; it's like a whirlwind happened to be going through the room and picked up a baseball bat along the way. _ What the hell, did she get robbed? _

But then she blinks and everything’s pristine again, making her shake her head in confusion.

She might just be overworking herself, or maybe it’s been so quiet in town that her mind is trying to _ make _ something happen. Either way, it doesn’t seem like anything’s out of place. Her dad is already here shooting paper baskets and spinning around in his chair.

“Emma!” David's eyes light up and he gives her a huge grin when he sees her. He glances briefly at the paper bag in her hand and she laughs at the gleam in his eye.

She rolls her eyes playfully and digs into the bag, producing a muffin, and David makes a grab at it. “Nice to see you too, Dad,” she teases when he ignores her and takes a bite out of the muffin. His reaction is strangely similar to hers when she had her first bite at the diner. Like father like daughter? Now she shudders because she doesn’t want to imagine that her and David might have similar reactions in _ other _ situations as well. She wrinkles her nose at the thought and also when her dad moans around the dessert, “Gross, Dad, keep it in your pants,” she repeats what Ruby told her.

David gives her a sheepish grin. “Sorry, thanks for the muffin, champ!” He stands up and tries to playfully give her a bear hug, but she laughs and pushes him away.

She heads into her office, making sure she’s all settled in her office chair before taking the muffin she previously took a bite out of and continues eating it. Oh god, this was _ so _ worth the steep asking price for Ruby to save some on the side for her. In her opinion, it was a sound investment if she got to sleep in and spend time with her family _ and _ get a guaranteed muffin. It was all a win-win, if you don’t count her empty wallet that is.

After lamenting the loss when she finishes eating, Emma checks her emails and does some paperwork, but none of it is exciting and she’s already considering joining her dad in paper basketball. She stands up, ready to call out to her dad on joining him when the phone suddenly rings. She scrambles to pick it up and doesn’t hear anything at first, but she presses the receiver more firmly against her ear before finally picking up the vague sound of… crying?

She pulls her head back and looks warily at the phone; it wavers in her hand for a moment and she has to blink a few times before putting the phone back up against her ear. “Hello?” she asks hesitantly.

She hears a normal, “Hi, Sheriff Swan?” and she lets out a quiet breath of relief.

“Yes, is something wrong?”

* * *

In the end, it was just a woman slightly perturbed about her cat being stuck up in a tree. It was normal, this is a normal life and there’s no big bad that’s rampaging through town.

But when she gets there, she can’t help but think about the crying she heard and how familiar it sounded and she half wonders if she’s going through some sort of psychotic break, or if she’s so bored that she’s creating issues in her mind. She wonders if she should go see Archie or if she should bother to bring it up with Regina.

The woman stands there and simply points up at a tree when she exits her cruiser, and she huffs before squinting up into the leaves. There, on a branch, is a tabby that’s looking much too comfortable up in a tree considering how much of an ordeal it’ll be for Emma to get up there and probably get scratched while trying to get it down.

She sighs but rolls up her sleeves, getting ready to climb anyway, because this is her job.

20 minutes of coaxing the cat into her arms later, she attempts to take a selfie with the squirming animal, wanting to just send a stupid picture to her wife. She positions herself so she’s facing the sun while trying to hold up the cat next to her face; she attaches it to a text and sends it to her wife before gingerly making her way down with one hand. The woman is nowhere to be found when she’s back on the ground, causing her to frown. She wonders if the woman just got bored, or maybe it wasn’t even her cat and she just saw a random cat up in a tree and called the police. There are so many possible reasons but right now, she just wants to know what to do with this damn cat.

Her phone buzzes in her pocket just as she decides to drop the cat off at the animal shelter. She can even ask David about it; he may not work there anymore since he’s been deputized, but he still volunteers over there every once in a while, missing the feeling of being surrounded by animals. Granted, they’re not farm animals, but he says it’s close enough. Emma wonders if she should ask her wife about any nearby farms that might need volunteers.

She takes out her phone and unlocks it, briefly gazing at her wallpaper and smiling. It’s a picture of her, Henry and Regina and they’re all grinning like dorks at the camera, all teeth and happy smiles. She really just wants to live out her life in peace. Speaking of farms, maybe she should ask if Regina’s willing to just go away with her and Henry and live their lives out on a farm. If she asks nicely (and with the help of their scheming son), maybe they can get a dog too.

The wallpaper glitches.

She blinks, going so far as to rub her eyes with the back of the hand holding her phone. Must be something with the light or her phone was just acting weird; it happens. Might even be time to get an upgrade, it's an old phone.

Opening up the text message she just received, her smile comes back because it’s from Regina.

** _My hero._ **

And yeah, it’s sarcastic, but she’s known her wife long enough to hear her saying this with that tinge of affection hidden in her voice. It’s the type of voice she reserves solely for her family, starting from Henry then to her, then to her parents and it’s amazing how far she’s come. How far _ they’ve _ come. And the affection may be a little harder to hear when it comes to Mary Margaret, but it’s there if you look for it and she’s never been prouder of this family they’ve all built together.

** _Hang that cape for a second and make it on time to the meeting, please._ **

Smiling and shaking her head at the text from her snarky wife, she heads back to the cruiser with the cat sprawled over her shoulder, finally getting comfortable in her arms and not digging its claws into her skin, thankfully. And when she drives over to the shelter, the cat just stays in her lap and she feels herself getting attached to it. She’s never really had a pet before; aside from the obvious reasons—_being an orphan with no _ home—time and money were things she never actually had. It was partly because she needed a job to keep her distracted, and partly because she’s always been rather frugal with her money, never really getting anything she really wants and focusing more on what she _ needs _.

She pets the head of the cat, giving it a wry smile when it looks up at her with wide blue eyes, but she shakes her head and picks it up, bringing it into the shelter. The old man there doesn’t even realize someone entered the place until she’s standing right in front of the counter and clearing her throat. After getting his attention, she drops the cat off, but he doesn’t even recognize who she is and she’s a little worried about, not _ just _ the tabby, but also all the other animals at the shelter. Maybe she can bring it up with Regina.

Speaking of, she checks the time and hurries back outside to get into the cruiser but-

“What?”

The cruiser is gone, the parking space where she parked it only a few minutes ago is completely empty and she furtively glances around, hoping to catch the thief driving away in it. There’s no way she misplaced it so someone must have stolen the car but she didn’t hear anything, no engine roar, no squeal of tires.

She checks the time again and groans. She begins running to town hall instead, leaving the missing cruiser mess until later.

Everyone in the room immediately turns their head to look at her, which causes her to wince and sheepishly duck her head, quickly making her way to her seat. She catches Regina’s eyes and is given an unimpressed look. ‘Sorry,’ she mouths, and Regina rolls her eyes and continues the meeting as if they weren’t interrupted.

They get through the status report of the town first, everyone giving short statistics on budget, census, etc, before her wife addresses her.

“Sheriff Swan, anything to share?”

And she tries not to wince again because of course she forgot her folder filled with notes and stats. “Uh,” she rapidly wracks her mind for information and she vaguely remembers some numbers, “there haven’t been any disasters for the past month and the crime rate has lowered by…” she trails off, the numbers floating around in her mind and hurting her head. “Lowered by 5%.” She’s pretty confident about the number, sorta, kinda, because it’s a pretty significant decrease so it’s unique in that way. But it was also a ridiculous number and she doesn’t like making a claim without the proof.

Storybrooke’s crime was never high to begin with so five percent makes it practically non-existent.

Regina frowns slightly, her only tells that something was bothering her being the little twitch in her eyebrow and the small downturn of plump lips. “Thank you, Sheriff.” And then she’s dismissed and there’s literally nothing else left for her to do in the meeting.

She can’t be obnoxious and sleep or tap the table though; ever since she married the illustrious mayor, she’s been trying to be worthy of Regina, because saviour or not, she gives off the image of being a slacker. She doesn’t want her behaviour to reflect on her wife, being a unit and all, so she has been trying her best to be good. Their days of annoying each other and to hell with what everyone thinks of them are long gone.

But her head hurts; trying to bring up the police reports in her mind apparently was too much because she’s tired, and the droning voice of Geppetto going through the budget of replacing town hall furniture is not helping. She supports her head with an elbow against the table, supporting it firmly up in her hand, forcing her eyes wide open whenever she feels them close.

_ She sees beautifully vibrant red silk and she wonders what it would feel like with her fingers running through it. But no, she can’t, it’s just not something they do. But holding back is like hiding another piece of herself. _

_ “That’s another wall, Emma.” _

_ And she frowns and turns to the side. She sees deep down a well, it’s dark like an abyss and she briefly considers jumping down it. Maybe she can be locked in one, stuck in the darkness for eternity. She can’t feel her life being worth living right now and if this will help everyone… _

_ Help everyone? _

_ Why would that help everyone? _

_ “Emma.” _

_ She sees metal and leather, a hook? And the feelings that accompany them makes her feel nauseous and then there’s panic, then anger, then all she can feel was that she has to protect the people she loves. _

_ “Emma.” _

_ She sees blood against leather and metal and she feels relief. They’re safe. That’s all that matters, they’re safe. _

_ But why- _

“Emma!”

There’s a bang on the table and her head shoots up. She sees her wife right in front of her, expression angry but eyes filled with worry.

“I’m sorry, Sheriff, are we boring you?”

There's a loud buzzing inside her head and she shakes it, trying to get rid of the noise. It dulls before becoming background noise and she supposes that's the best it’s gonna get. She turns to the front, her wife looking at her with concerned eyes, and she waves off everyone and gestures for them to look back to the front.

"No, I’m sorry, continue on.”

There's a frown on Regina's face, the wrinkle between her eyes prominent for all to see but, ever the professional, she continues on with the meeting.

"Does anyone else have any more questions or concerns?" Regina makes a peripheral check around the room and doesn’t see any raised hands, so she starts to pack up. “Very well,” and Emma starts hearing cacophonous sounds of chair legs against hard linoleum, “thank you everyone for joining the meeting, and I’ll see you all next week.”

She catches Regina’s eyes and she’s pinned with a look that keeps her from making any movements to leave. And everyone must realize the tension between them because it doesn’t take more than a few minutes before everyone high-tails it out of there and the meeting room quickly becomes completely devoid of people save them two.

Regina straightens up with all her files in her arms and she takes that as her cue to stand up and they both make their way to her office. “I missed you,” she hears her wife say and she can’t help but smile.

“I missed you too, sorry I was late.” Regina turns to look at her, her eyes flickering across her face before facing forward again.

“I haven’t seen you fall asleep in meetings like that in a while.”

She blinks and inwardly sighs. She didn’t know why she felt tired then either; she’s usually much more supportive and attentive than that. She also knows what Regina _ wasn’t _ asking, and it was whether she was okay or not.

Regina’s learned rather early on that asking her if she was okay was pointless as she’ll always say she’s fine regardless—which has driven her wife insane at times—so now Regina has these unique little ways of asking without asking and she’s _ grateful_. Because sometimes she’s not even sure what she’s really feeling until Regina points something out.

Like why she was tired in this meeting, for instance. “Yeah, it was weird.” And honestly, that was the most accurate way she could describe what happened. Hazy scenes of her daydream came back into her mind, and she puzzles over them all because none of it made sense to her. Whatever; out of all the weird things that have happened to her today, falling asleep in a town meeting was probably the most normal thing that has happened.

“I also noticed you gave the same report as last time.”

Emma stutters in her steps for a moment before jogging slightly to catch up. “Did I? Sorry, I didn’t bring my notes.” Regina gives her an exasperated sigh and she knows she’s forgiven, but she winces when she tries to remember what she did last week or even the day before. Was there a meeting? Did she give the same number? Is that why it stuck out to her?

She shakes her head and reaches forward, opening the mayor’s office door for Regina. “After you, madam.” She gestures inside and her wife teasingly trails a hand down her arm in thanks. She grins down at her and follows her wife inside, closing the door behind her when she enters.

Regina turns around and presses an affectionate kiss against her lips. Her eyes involuntarily close, and she reciprocates eagerly. The mayor pulls back before they get too into it, and she pouts.

“Hi,” Regina greets her breathily and her mouth forms into a grin again.

“Hi.”

They stand there smiling at each other for a long while; she loves loving Regina, it makes her feel fulfilled in ways that nothing else can compare. She leans in for a much more chaste kiss this time, but that doesn’t diminish how much Regina looks at her adoringly. Her wife grins mischievously before turning to walk behind her desk. “So where is my muffin today?”

“What!” She gives an incredulous laugh. “That’s the first thing you ask me?” She sees the glimmer in her wife’s eyes and she shakes her head in disbelief. “_How are you, Emma, how was your day? _Oh, I’m doing great thank you, saved a cat actually!” she mutters loudly enough for her wife to hear—and laugh—before raising her hand and drawing her magic.

She feels it bubble up her arm, spreading down to her hand but it sparks and nothing happens. She frowns looking down at it, vigorously shaking her hand like a broken toy, trying to draw up her magic again only for the same result to happen. She looks up, sees Regina frowning at her, and sighs. “You’re gonna have to get your own muffin, I guess, it’s at the station on my desk.”

Regina gives her a worried look, reaching out for her hand-

She blinks.

Regina rolls her eyes before waving her hand in a flourish, and her dark purple magic puffs and reveals the paper bag of muffins. With a speed and eagerness that would surprise everyone in town, Regina quickly rummages through the bag and procures a muffin like it was an artifact in some ancient ruin, and Emma laughs, flopping into one of the nice office arm chairs sitting across from the mayor’s imposing desk.

As with anyone who takes a bite out of the baked confection, Regina makes an inelegant moan around the mouthful she takes and Emma has to cross her legs a bit. Obviously her wife notices from the smirk she’s sporting, but Emma doesn’t have to worry about it for too long because Regina walks over to her and sits sideways in her lap.

“My, Madame Mayor, how improper!” she says with a grin that she knows infuriates her wife and she gets a retaliating muffin bite and an over-the-top moan. She laughs, leaning in and Regina immediately turns to connect their lips together happily.

Happy.

“Are you happy?” she asks when they part and Regina looks at her in confusion at the solemn tone she suddenly took. She doesn’t even know why her train of thought even led her this way. Something about her daydream drifts around in the back of her mind, a shroud of doubt and uncertainty remaining.

Regina caresses her jaw, tracing it downwards until her thumb can reach her lip and she traces that too. “Of course I’m happy.” And her wife says it in a way that leaves little doubt or question as to whether it’s true or not; she can also see it clearly in brown eyes, the raw emotion in them bringing her to question her own doubts instead.

“Oh.” Regina releases her jaw and lifts her hand, palm facing up, and a swirl of her signature purple magic transfers a small package into her hand. When the smoke clears her eyes narrow at the small rectangular sized package gift wrapped in duck wrapping paper and she snorts.

“What’s this for?”

Regina rolls her eyes and practically tosses it in her face. With her wife in her lap, there wasn’t much room to drop the gift anywhere so it hits her face and falls into Regina’s lap instead. She brings both her hands out from under the woman in her lap and instead goes to unwrap the present before she’s informed that it’s “for your birthday, you idiot.”

Her forehead creases as that buzzing comes back inside her brain. “I forgot it was my birthday today.”

“Evidently,” Regina snarks as her eyes watch Emma carefully remove the last bit of wrapping paper, revealing a small book.

She feels her eyebrows lift as she flips through it quickly, noticing the pages are blank. “A diary?” And there’s a hint of distaste in her tone that’s clear enough for Regina to laugh.

“It’s a pocket journal.” Emma absently opens her mouth to eat the last piece of the muffin Regina feeds her while still staring down at the journal. Regina claps her hands to remove the crumbs off her fingers before standing up and getting back to work. “I don’t know how you can fit anything in those tight jeans of yours, dear, so I had to be creative.”

She stands up and tests the ‘pocket’ function by putting it in her back pocket and it fits, slightly bulky and obvious that there’s something there, but it’s leather bound and flexible enough that it contorts to the shape of her butt. Which is more than what she can say about her hard, rectangular phone.

“Thanks, honey,” she walks around the desk to give her wife a parting kiss, “I’ll try to write in it every day.”

Regina growls, “You better.”

* * *

Aside from the annoying buzz, nothing else occurs throughout the day. She still hears it now; it’s not loud or overpowering but it’s been a constant—_constant pain in the butt—_and it gives her a bad feeling. Like it’s just waiting, simmering underneath the surface.

She considers telling Archie, but the day ends before she gets around to it and she’s at home instead setting up dinner.

“Hey Ma, do you know when Mom will be home?”

She looks up from the pot of pasta sauce she’s stirring and stares at her son. She picked him up from school when she received a text from her wife that she was going to be late at work tonight. This is pretty normal, Regina has days where people screw up royally and then she finds herself underneath piles of paperwork. She’d help if she had way more patience, and considering she doesn’t even like doing her _ own _ police paperwork, she can’t imagine sitting through boring _ mayor _ paperwork. She doesn’t think she’d last a minute, Regina would probably just kick her out for annoying her.

“She didn’t say, but she should be home soon, Henry.” She shrugs at her son and her son nods and shrugs back, making her chuckle at how ridiculously similar they are. Regina must get so angry whenever she undoes all the manners Regina has painstakingly instilled in him.

“I hope so,” Henry says with a tinge of worry in his voice, “it’s really late.” She frowns and checks the time and it is late, later than usual.

She tells him not to worry though and lets him eat first so he can go to bed with a full stomach. She stays up instead, all the food wrapped up or in containers in the fridge and she’s pacing at the front door wondering if she should head to the office.

She’ll wait a few more hours, it’s fine, there’s time.

It’s not that late.

An hour later, she decides she can’t wait anymore. She goes upstairs to double check on Henry, making sure he’s tucked in and asleep, and then quietly heading downstairs and out the door. It’s dark out, a slight chill in the air and she shivers, briefly considers if she should head back in and grab a coat, but decides against it. She’s just going to drive to town hall and pick up Regina; it’ll be quick.

Walking to the driveway, however, reveals that her car isn’t there and so no, she can’t just drive over. She doesn’t understand why it’s not there though, perplexed at this pattern of cars disappearing on her. She’s standing right where it usually is, and right where she parked it after she picked her son up.

_ Wait, how did she pick up Henry? _

Whatever, she’ll walk, it’s fine, she just needs to see Regina and check if she’s okay. Plus they can just take the Mercedes when they head back so if anything, she can deal with her missing car later. The buzzing in her head is getting obnoxiously loud though and everything shifts, or maybe her eyesight is going wonky; it’s probably that last one. It doesn’t stop her from setting off into the night, walking towards the mayor’s office.

Something feels off though; it’s a cloudless dusky blue sky and there’s goosebumps all along her arms. The hairs at the back of her neck feel like they’re standing up and she just feels overall like something bad is about to happen.

It’s even worse when a white mist rolls in and shrouds the streets in fog, making it much harder to see. And when she steps forward she sees a figure off in the distance.

“Hello?” she calls out hesitantly; her voice echoes out onto the streets and it’s creepy and eerie. She remembers her magic isn’t working but gives it another try anyway. It doesn’t surprise her that it still doesn’t work but it does leave her feeling helpless. The fog around her is thick and anyone could leap out at her any moment, but she swallows and continues onward, needing to find Regina and the person in front of her might know the way out of this fog.

She walks up to the figure slowly, wondering who could be standing outside at this hour. The closer she gets, the more familiar they appear.

“Regina?”

She reaches out and pulls the figure’s shoulder back; they turn and-

* * *

Her eyes snap open and she bolts upright. When she frantically looks around, she sees the familiar bedroom bathed in sunlight and falls back down in relief. But then she runs a hand over on Regina’s side of the bed and it feels cold, and she suddenly needs to see Regina and make sure she’s okay.

She chalks up last night to some nightmare; she probably fell asleep and her wife came home without her knowing. Regina’s probably downstairs right now; actually, what time is it? Maybe she overslept? She turns to the nightstand to look at the radio clock and the digital time is a garbled mess, which makes her groan. Of course, today of all days, technology would break on her. She smacks it a bit and it glitches but doesn’t fix itself, so she gives up and gets up to get dressed instead.

She glances over at the open door of Henry’s room while making her way downstairs and he’s not in his room either. She can only assume she slept in and she’s running extremely late, though it’s weird that no one tried to wake her. She’s actually a really light sleeper; camping out in the backseat of her bug and staying in unsafe foster homes will instill that instinct to keep an eye open while sleeping and while she’s not nearly as bad now, she still wakes up at small foreign noises.

Her shoulders drop in relief when she sees Regina standing in front of the kitchen sink, facing out the window. Something feels off, which might be the fact that her own wife didn’t turn around and greet her when she stumbled into the kitchen, and she’s reminded of her dream.

“Regina?” She approaches anyway, cautiously though, and reaches out, about to grab Regina’s shoulder but the other woman spins before she even touches her and she rears back in surprise.

_ “Meam, seu eht orjanlu, ti's hte key ot eth sucer.” _

“What?” she spits out when only garbled words come out of her wife’s mouth and Regina shifts and breaks, disappearing right before her eyes. She holds her head when the buzzing comes back in full force, giving her a splitting headache and she has to curl in on herself.

When it stops, she lets go of her head and looks around, suddenly she’s in Granny’s and it’s a mess in here. It looks like it went through a hurricane; everything’s broken on the ground and pieces of the ceiling are gone as well. What really catches her attention is that there’s no one here.

“Ruby? Granny?” The answering silence hurts and something is definitely wrong, though she’s not sure what; she just knows that she needs to find _ someone _. So she runs out, the bell over the door clanging loudly in her haste and when she steps out, she walks out to a dark street.

“What the fuck?”

She yells out loud and her voice echoes down the empty street. It’s suddenly _ night _ again? She has absolutely _ no _ clue what’s going on and it’s unnerving her. She feels a shiver go down her back and she realizes it’s foggy in the streets again. Her dream from last night hits her and she starts to run forward.

Regina. She has to find her.

It’s her only thought as she runs headlong into the thick fog where she can’t even see past her own hand. But she keeps running, pretty much on instinct at this point, hoping to run into someone soon because the silence is deafening.

After running around like a headless chicken for who knows how long, she finally manages to bump into a person. Thank god, there’s someone else here; she really hopes she just found Regina, because there’s something wrong and there’s nothing they can’t figure out together. She can’t see anything but the person in front of her and the fog surrounding her and she has no idea where she even is in relation to the town, but she assumes she’s on the street still.

She was about to put a hand on the person’s shoulder, but hesitates and decides to pull on their arm instead. Despite standing right behind them, the person is still shrouded in darkness and she can’t see any distinct traits about them to figure out who they are.

As she pulls lightly, the person turns without any resistance and she stumbles backwards.

“R-Regina?”

Somehow she did find Regina but-

White noise fills her head momentarily and she can’t see, much less think, with the sight before her. Regina shifts and glitches and the sound abates slightly and-

Regina is-

“No!”

Was she screaming? It feels like she’s screaming. She’s lunging forward, barely catching her wife in time when she crumples forward into her arms. Her vision quickly blurs with tears. “No, no, no, no, honey, Regina, no!” Red blooms from the middle of Regina’s heart and spreads quickly and she doesn’t know what to do! She hugs her wife, cradling her and rocking her back and forth, unable to say anything else but one word. And she doesn’t know what she’s saying ‘no’ to, maybe the situation, maybe she’s trying to deny it, will it from existence, maybe if she denies it long enough it’ll go away.

“Em…”

She gasps at the whispered call of her name, leaning back so she can stroke Regina’s face, watching helplessly as the woman in her arms struggles to open her eyes.

She chokes out a “Regina?” and she hates how small her voice sounds, how anguished the name sounds torn from her throat. “Tell me what to do,” she begs, “tell me what I can do to help.” Fat droplets of water splatter all over Regina’s face and she dimly acknowledges that those were her tears; she can feel the tears rolling down her cheeks, her nose, her mouth, in the most ugly way and she quickly wipes her face with her arm so she can stop crying all over her wife.

“…Emma.” Another raspy call; this time Regina raises a shaky hand and she immediately grasps onto it, holding it tight against her heart.

“I’m here, I’m here.”

“W-why…?”

She feels before she sees the strength go out of Regina’s body; what once she viewed as strong and imperious is now small and frail in her arms. Regina’s eyes roll to the back of her head until all Emma sees is the white of her eyes and her wife’s hand goes limp in hers.

“No. No!” She clutches the body in her arms and holds her even more tightly against her, crying and rocking into silky black hair. She feels her heart breaking, a piece of her soul dying, creating a void inside her.

What is she going to do? How is she going to survive from here on? How will she take care of Henry by herself? Oh god, what will she tell Henry?

So many questions run through her head, somehow filling it up even more amidst the white noise and pain. The questions swirl in her mind, mixing with everything else and her vision blacks out momentarily. When she blinks, bringing her vision back, she notices the fog is gone.

When she looks up, she notices that she’s completely surrounded by people. Looming, indistinct figures who slowly inch their way towards her and she panics, pulling Regina’s body even closer as if to shield her from everyone, as if it’s not too little, too late, and she wants to get out of here. Wants to scream at everyone to get away from here, wants to scream at how unfair it is for Regina to be gone, wants to scream at the impossibility that Regina _ could _ be gone.

And she feels her magic bubble in the pit of her stomach. She desperately grasps onto a thread of her magic, willing it to work, pulling it to the surface of her skin and it builds and builds and builds. She feels it building at the center of her body until it gets too painful to contain it.

_ She wants Regina back. _

It’s her only thought before magic explodes out of her and her vision gets enveloped with white.

* * *

She jolts awake. This time she scrambles immediately off the bed, looking wildly around. She’s in their bedroom again; it’s morning once again as well, and she hopes to _ god _ this has just all been a really long and elaborate nightmare.

“Regina!” she yells as she rushes out of the room, her steps thundering down the stairs in a way that would have gotten her scolded by her wife. But she doesn’t hear any reprimands and when she skids into the kitchen and study, she doesn’t see any trace of Regina either. “Regina!” she yells again, running around the house searching for her wife, or even her son. She doesn’t see Henry either and she’s beginning to have trouble breathing, can feel herself getting a panic attack.

She runs to Henry’s room. It looks fundamentally different from how she remembers it and it’s the most confusing thing to her right now—_aside from the obvious missing family members, of course_. She walks cautiously over to Henry’s bookcase and sees more books on science and maths than she does on stories. Henry _ hates _ science and math and she can’t imagine him reading any of these as a hobby.

Just when she’s about to take out a book and flip through it, she hears the doorbell and she nearly trips and tumbles her way down the staircase when she goes to rip open the door.

“Regina?” is the first thing she blurts out before the door is even fully opened and the sight before her makes her heart stop dead in its tracks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're welcome.


	2. Happy Ending

Regina stands there, _ cockily_, on their front porch, both _ so _ Regina and yet not like Regina _ at all _ and she has to take a moment to take it all in.

She notices that Henry is slouching and scowling in front of her. And she frowns before looking back up at the other woman. Something about Regina is _ different _ and her eyes roam about, quickly cataloguing each difference. There’s the leather jacket, the tight jeans, the shorter hair and the sheriff star buckled on her belt. But most of all, is the complete lack of _ familiarity _ in brown eyes. This isn’t her Regina; it’s something she knows instantly because there’s no recognition, no affection, no _ anything _ she’s getting from the other woman towards her and her heart shatters right then and there.

“Good morning, Madame Mayor.” Not-Regina tips her head at her and she can only dumbly nod in response, the words not fully processing in her mind. She’s vaguely aware that she’s staring at the other woman but she can’t help it. “Found your son painting some graffiti on Gold’s building again.” If possible, her eyes widen even further as she looks down at her son.

“Henry!”

Henry’s scowl is etched into his face even deeper. “Whatever,” he says before he pushes past her and heads straight up to his room. She stares after him and the harsh reality that her son is different here too hits her. Where even is here? Is this a dream? Did she hit her head and she’s stuck in some weird nightmarey, limbo, coma thing?

“Well,” the brunette breaks the awkward tension and Emma’s head snaps back towards her, “guess my job is done here.”

Before she could even consider it, she reaches out and grabs onto this Regina look-alike’s arm and pulls. “Wait!” She manages to stop the mayor—that star on the other woman’s belt gives her pause when she considers the word _ mayor _ because did Regina just call _ her _ mayor?—in her tracks but she fumbles for words when she’s met with barely concealed irritation. “How would you like a glass of the best apple cider you ever tasted?” she blurts out in one breath and she’s thrown back to their first meeting but she’s in Regina’s shoes this time. Though admittedly, she’s not planning on poisoning the other woman any time soon, so it’s _ not exactly _ similar.

Regina freezes and raises an eyebrow, making Emma hold her breath until her cheeks turn blue before Regina shrugs and answers with a nonchalant, “Got anything stronger?” And it’s different, there’s a different sort of cadence in the familiar words: where Emma had once been a little intimidated and nervous, Regina is all confidence and bluster, striding in when Emma steps to the side without missing a beat.

She knows the house like the back of her hand now and she leads the way to her wife-not-wife’s study without issue, but her hand trembles when she pours a glass of apple cider from the decanter that was thankfully still there despite all the differences. Regina takes a glass when she’s handed one without a second thought but hesitates when it comes to drinking it, and Emma almost jokes that she wasn’t planning on killing her anytime soon. She stops herself though, knowing that the joke wouldn’t be appreciated nor understood and, in Regina’s words, would be in ‘poor taste’.

When the brunette takes a sip, she nods with a “Wow, that is good,” before rearing back and staring at the glass in wonder. “And strong.” Emma chuckles and takes the glass from the woman before topping it up and handing it back, marvelling at all the difference between this Regina and the Regina she’s grown so familiar with and it helps—a little bit—with differentiating the two.

Regina narrows her eyes but continues to drink anyway. “Trying to get me drunk, Madame Mayor?”

She gives the other woman a wry smile as she considers the fact that she might actually be _ mayor _ in this weird situation she’s in right now. And it feels _ wrong _ because she’s firmly associated the word with her wife and no one else, so having the title herself almost feels as if she’s personally removing traces of her and she doesn’t want that. She briefly considers the fact that she’s in some curse and the Regina before her just has a different set of memories, a _ wrong _ set of memories, and maybe a kiss would be all that’s needed to break it.

She turns to the mantelpiece to pour herself a large glass of apple cider and then goes to sit down on the couch, glancing meaningfully at the spot next to her and the other woman smirks before following. “Tell me more about yourself, Regina,” she cuts the silence once they’re both comfortably seated on the couch.

Dark eyebrows shoot up before narrowing again as the brunette regards her carefully, and Emma leans back and tries to appear as non-threatening as possible. “I figured we were here to talk about your son’s behaviour, Madame Mayor.”

She internally sighs, but admits that she’s also a little curious about what Henry’s like here. But in her rush to break the curse, she didn’t think focusing solely on Regina would backfire on her. “You’re right,” and she sees the other woman preen slightly and she nearly smirks knowing how even _ this _ Regina loves being right all the time, “why do you think Henry’s acting out like this?”

Regina frowns and maybe even sits up a little straighter. “I don’t mean to overstep, Mayor.”

She sighs; she’s not used to Regina catering to her, she’s so used to the other woman making her own rules and bulldozing everyone else’s convention. “Emma, please call me Emma.” She refrains from reaching over and grabbing the brunette’s hand, knowing how skittish she can be. Instead she turns and tries to be as open with her body language as she can. “And you’re not overstepping, I’m asking you for your opinion.”

Regina’s frown deepens but she nods this time. “I think your son might be acting out, it’s something I see often in children that feel like they’re not receiving the right attention they need at home.”

She winces when she recalls the way Henry forcibly made his way upstairs and the scowl on his face. _ Good god _, is that how Henry could’ve been if she kept him? If she was the one to raise him instead? Or is this curse like some freaky opposite day but only for her and Regina, and Henry is acting out like he did before they broke Regina’s curse? But that wouldn’t be right because it’s-

Her brain hurts, and not in that buzzing way it did before; it hurts from thinking too hard about the weird backstory they all could possibly have and how it fits with everything she knows. She doesn’t know how Regina handled it when she was the only one with her memories in the first curse.

“May- Emma?” Regina calls out to her tentatively, “I didn’t mean to imply that you weren’t taking care of him or anything.”

She shakes her head, pinching the bridge of her nose. “No, no, you’re probably right, or I don’t know. I’ll talk to him tomorrow morning or something.”

There’s a long pause and she groans inwardly at how terrible the mood is now. There’s no way she’s going to be able to get a kiss now after they’ve talked about Henry and her possible bad parenting skills.

“You’re… not what I was expecting, Emma.” Regina breaks the silence, and her eyebrows shoot upward in surprise.

“What do you mean?”

Regina sips at her drink before shrugging, an action Emma wasn’t used to associating with the other woman. “I’ve been sheriff in town for-” Regina breaks off suddenly and blinks in confusion, shaking her head, and Emma is _ certain _ they’re in a curse now.

“You were saying?” Emma gently prods this town’s sheriff on with that she was going to say.

“Right, I’ve been in town for, I don’t know _ how long _, and you always came off as uptight, strict, like you’ve got a stick up your-“ Regina breaks off her speech again but this time Emma laughs because she knows exactly what Regina was going to say. It wasn’t dissimilar to what she thought about the mayor when she was sheriff in town.

This sheriff looks at her a little guiltily and she slides in closer. “A stick up my ass? Yeah I got that.” She continues to laugh and she notices the tension in Regina’s shoulders loosen a bit, and soon the brunette is chuckling and grinning as well. And Emma almost finds herself _ transfixed _ because it’s similar to Regina but also a little different as well, it’s like seeing a new side to her wife and she wants all of it, wants to fill that ache deep in her soul because she misses _ her _ Regina.

She’s leaning in and pressing a kiss against plump lips before she could even contemplate it and for a moment she feels a kiss back before she’s pushed away.

Three things she notices then in that exact moment:

  1. Nothing seems to have happened during the kiss, no curse breaking, no True Love light, nothing.
  2. Regina is still in a jacket and jeans combo, that sheriff badge staring at her mockingly from the brunette’s belt.
  3. Regina’s staring at her with wide eyes and her mouth in an ‘o’. She looks horrified.

So she’s not exactly surprised when Regina scrambles out of the couch and runs out the door, Emma being too devastated to chase after her. Because what’s the point? In the end the curse didn’t break and she’s stuck here now.

She slumps on the couch, drinking _ Regina’s _ apple cider and dreaming of home.

* * *

Sunlight beams directly into her eyes when morning hits and that’s what wakes her up. She finds herself still on the couch, having not moved from last night and probably falling asleep from exhaustion.

Taking a closer look of the study in the morning light, she can see the small differences between Regina’s study and this one. There’s a mix of them both, with less pictures filling the space but all of them still Henry, a record player in the corner with all her favourites that she recalls Regina scrunching her nose at, and a desk that’s covered in papers—something familiar to her as own desk as a sheriff looks more or less the same.

She spots a clock on the wall but realizes it must be broken because the second hand isn’t moving. She gets up anyway, semi-ready for the day but she needs to make food for her son regardless of how she feels.

She’s whipping up pancakes by the time Henry stumbles down the stairs and into the kitchen and he rubs at his eyes sleepily while looking at her suspiciously. “What are you doing up?”

Her first reaction was to scold him but she refrains from doing so, her mouth clicking shut as she swallows her words. “I’m making you breakfast,” she says instead because she’s unable to break this curse so she needs to spend her time here and she can’t treat Henry like _ her _ Henry because this one is rough and suspicious. Barely any of that _ heart of the truest believer _stuff shines through in her interactions with him and it makes her own son feel foreign.

He doesn’t come and sit down at the island though, instead standing there at the entrance of the kitchen confused and hesitant. “Is this about the graffiti thing?” Henry accuses, defensive walls flying up even when Emma isn’t trying to pick a fight. “Because I don’t regret it! Gold’s an ass and he deserves it.”

“Henry, no.” She sees the way her son’s arms are crossed over his chest like he’s trying to defend himself and her heart breaks. She can only imagine what sort of neglect her cursed self supposedly did—her time in bad foster homes broke any illusion that adults can be good—and she hates that she sees so much of her younger self in this Henry. “This isn’t some sort of trick, I just wanted to make you some pancakes,” she tries to calm her son down.

It didn’t help however, because Henry is yelling, “But you never make breakfast!” and her heart breaks all over again.

“And I realize that needs to change,” she admits; even if she never did any of the things Henry remembers, _ he _ does and it’s very real for him. She quickly plates up the food, sliding it over to him on the island table and then gesturing to it while trying to be as welcoming as she can.

He hesitates—he hesitates for a _ long _ time—but eventually he slowly makes his way over to the table and sits at the island, prodding the food suspiciously before popping it in his mouth. A flash of happiness passes through his eyes and she sighs, already exhausted for the day.

She never thought she’d have to be so _ open _ to the two people she loves most; normally _ she _ was the skittish one and everyone had to coax her like a wild animal. She’s finding both Regina and Henry’s hearts completely closed off from her however, and she never realized how tiring it was walking on eggshells around them. She’s a thousand times more grateful to both her son and her wife for putting up with her flight tendencies and she’s already creating a list of things to do for them once this is all over.

“Henry,” she starts, breaking the silence between them. She doesn’t recall ever having this _ awkward _ silence between them, even during their first meeting—Henry filled the silence with babbling—and it’s unnerving how unfamiliar she is with this version of her son.

“Yeah?” Henry mumbles with his head still down and chewing at his food like he’s not really paying attention. She knows he’s listening though, he’s just showing attitude.

“Even if Gold is an ass, you know that writing graffiti on the walls is illegal right?” She barely waits for a nod before she continues, “So when school ends today, I’m picking you up and we’re going to go to Gold’s and apologize, and then I’m going to drop you off with Regina and she can figure out what your punishment will be.”

He looks up sharply before whining, “But Mom!” And she cuts him off with a shake of her head and he groans. A moment passes before he sighs. “Who’s Regina?”

An innocent question, but it makes her blood run cold. It’s foreign to hear Regina’s name come out of Henry’s mouth when she’s never heard him call her anything but ‘_mom _ ’ even during those pre-cursebreak days. But no, _ she’s _ mom now and she only recalls him ever calling her that when they were in New York and didn’t know any better.

“She’s the um, the Sheriff,” she coughs awkwardly, still unused to referring Regina in that way.

“Oh,” a pause, and she sees him shrug, “she was kinda cool I guess.”

And it’s so nonchalant, so apathetic to the woman that has nurtured him since he was a baby that she almost screams. But she doesn’t; she grits her teeth, silence falling between them again while she holds in her frustration.

“Yes,” she says at last, “very cool.” She then wonders if Regina is even _ willing _ to see them considering she sexually assaulted her last night. It seems both mother and son needed to apologize to the sheriff today, she thinks wryly. Hopefully she won’t have to explain the reason for what she did because what was she supposed to say? _ Sorry, I think you’re my wife who I last saw on the floor dying and I had to kiss you to break the curse. _

She shakes her head, _ god _ she’s a mess, this whole thing is a mess, her life is one big fat mess.

After she drops off a whining and reluctant Henry off at school, she heads to Granny’s and she should’ve expected it, but it still surprises her when she enters the diner and doesn’t see the big basket of muffins at the counter. What surprises her even more is the fact that it’s practically _ empty _in here; as far as she can remember, Granny’s has always been the main hub spot no matter which curse, but there’s only a few people eating their breakfast with many of the tables uncharacteristically empty.

Ruby’s been staring at her since she entered the place as if she’s some ghost, eyes practically bulged out of her head and her mouth wide open. “Uh, good morning, Madame Mayor,” the long-haired waitress stutters out and, _ right_, she forgot she’s the mayor. “What can I do for you?”

She frowns, not used to her friend looking like she’s two seconds away from bolting out the door. “I just need a coffee and a bear claw, Ruby.” And if possible, the brunette’s eyes went wider.

“A- a _ bear claw_, Madame Mayor?” Her frown deepens, _ geez _ was her cursed self basically _ Regina _ ? She’s beginning to suspect that that’s the case. She could just act like her and avoid these awkward situations, and she considers it because she doesn’t know how long she’ll have to stay like this and she doesn’t want to draw _ too much _ attention.

In the end, she decides to emulate Regina, so she straightens her spine and speaks in her most authoritative voice, “Yes, _ Miss Lucas,” _ she recalls Regina calling Ruby that all the time, “just get me my _ bear claw _ so I can be on my way.” And it works, because it kicks Ruby into gear and the poor girl scrambles to the back to get her order. _ This isn’t so hard_, she thinks; she knows Regina like the back of her hand so it’s not difficult for her to imagine what Regina would say in these situations.

She waits at the counter, refraining from tapping her feet as she waits and instead looks around; she sees that the other diners are looking at her with trepidation but also curiosity. Apparently whatever she did was really out of character and she’s going to have to change that. She won’t be able to pretend to be Regina for long, no way, that would be _ way _ too tiring, but she can inject her own personality bit by bit, making it a smoother transition.

She sighs; she really needs to figure out a way to break this curse though. She doesn’t even know where to begin. As far as she can remember, every time some crisis popped up, she just kinda went with the flow, jumped in head first without much planning and it _ somehow _ worked for her? She realizes now why Regina always gets annoyed at her when things work out because Regina is a _ planner _ and it must be awful to spend all that time planning only to be thwarted by a careless _ charming_.

“Here you go, Mayor, have a nice day.” Emma’s broken out of her thoughts when Ruby suddenly reappears and hands her her order. And she nods and smiles in gratitude, trying not to show more than anything Regina would’ve shown, before quickly leaving the diner and all its staring occupants.

_ Where to now_, she asks herself, and there’s no choice but to just live in the life of _ Emma the Mayor _and head to town hall, see if she can get any clues from there. She doubts it, but it’s all she’s got right now.

* * *

There’s a few key differences she immediately notices when she reaches the mayor’s office. One, there’s a desk for a secretary—who is thankfully missing and she assumes they were on a bathroom break—right outside the office and she definitely remembers her Regina never having one because she always had an issue with _ delegating _.

Two, the mayor’s office doesn’t look _ remotely _ like Regina’s at all.

It’s messy but with more colour than the monochromatic theme she’s used to, but there’s still an intimidating edge to it, just different from Regina’s usual strictness. There’s no longer the minibar Regina likes to indulge in from time to time and she finds herself sorely needing some apple cider right about now. The couch is plush leather but decorative enough to make people uncomfortable during one on one meetings—uncomfortable is _ just _ how Regina likes her opponents—and she gives out a wry laugh when she walks over to one and sinks into it.

She looks around and finds everything rearranged and her mind has trouble associating this room with the Mayor’s office.

_ “Emma.” _

She yelps and nearly jumps right out of her seat, her head whipping to the side and seeing her wife. Tears practically jump right from her eyes at the sight. “Regina,” she whispers as if speaking too loud would cause the woman before her to float away.

This was the Regina she remembered, dark medium-length hair, black power suit with a tantalizing red top, and some black pants with 5-inch heels.

She makes to leap forward and hug her wife but Regina holds up a hand and stops her immediately in her tracks. “Why?” she asks, and she can hear the hurt and the pain in her own voice. Regina must too, because she smiles sadly and shakes her head. Her wife then places a hand over her heart before gesturing to her pocket.

_ “The journal, Emma, don’t forget it.” _

“Wha-“ She hears a knock and her neck cracks when she swings her head to face the door in surprise. She panics for a moment and quickly looks back only to find that Regina’s gone and she wants to scream. “_ Shit _,” she mutters under her breath before saying, in a louder voice to the door, “Come in.”

The door opens a crack before a familiar head pokes out. “Mulan?” She stares at the raven-haired woman who just raises an eyebrow as her dark brown eyes flicker over Emma’s face, making her realize she must look like a mess. She’s wearing something business casual which is something Emma’s not entirely used to. The first time she saw her was when she accidentally went through Jefferson’s hat and landed in the Enchanted Forest and she was an armour wearing, sword-wielding badass. Not that this version of Mulan isn’t a badass either, she gathers from the intense stare the ex-warrior is giving her right now. But the last time she saw Mulan was at the Sheriff's Office, _her_ office, and Mulan was her Deputy.

“Good morning, Madame Mayor, I have your schedule for today.” And even though she’s still not used to being called_ mayor _ , Mulan says this in such a dutiful way that she didn’t realize how _ relieved _ that makes her feel. It was something familiar, something her sanity clings on for dear life because her life has turned completely upside down and her nerves were still freshly frazzled from her encounter(?) with Regina(??).

Mulan waits for a nod before looking down at her agenda she’s propping up with her arm and begins to rattle off important meeting times and dates; Emma just stares blankly as words and numbers jumble in her brain and none of it actually sticks. “And lastly, there’s the meeting with the sheriff at 3pm-”

She perks up at words she actually recognizes and she hurriedly interrupts with a “Uh, Mulan?” A guilty smile falls on her face when her secretary—_god, that’s weird—_stops reading out her schedule but Mulan just looks up at her with a dull stare. She gulps, legitimately intimidated. “Could you, maybe, cancel all the meetings except with the sheriff?” Then she adds in a hurry, “And actually, can you reschedule it to a later time? I need to pick up my son.”

Silence follows where they just look at each other, and Emma’s scared that this is the moment Mulan suddenly reverts back to a warrior and pulls a sword on her. For what reason, she’s not sure, but maybe it’s because she’s acting like a complete fraud, and she can’t seem to muster up any of that mayor attitude she did in the diner under that piercing stare. But Mulan eventually breaks the eye contact after 5 awkward minutes, sighing subtly, before nodding resignedly. “Yes, I’ll go do that now, will that be all, Mayor?”

“Emma,” she stumbles out, “please just call me Emma.” Another raised eyebrow look and she briefly wonders if Mulan and Regina would’ve become good friends together if they had the chance to actually meet; they and their judgey looks would’ve been great at warding off men in bars. Her mind wanders right back to Regina, as it usually does, and she wonders if this new version of hers is more willing to go to a bar with her. _ Still need to apologize for that unwanted kiss first. _

Her secretary—which will always be weird to say no matter how many times—nods and exits her office and shuts the door quietly behind her. Reality finally dawns on her when she’s left to the quiet of the awfully spacious room. It doesn’t feel like her, one of her bouncing thoughts blares loudly in her head, and she stands up, walks over to the large mahogany desk and opens up all the drawers. Shuffling through documents and folders, she indeed sees that she’s signed her name on all of them which is the final nail for her to accept that she’s in this situation now.

She’s here, in this curse—_she can only imagine it must be a curse because what else could it be—_with her memories and there’s no one else that can help her.

She grabs her office chair before it can roll away from her and clumsily sits on it, leaning back on the stiff chair and shifting, trying and failing to get comfortable. She brings her hand up and stares at it hard, shaking it out, flexing it, concentrating on the feeling of her magic moving from her soul and spreading to her hand, but it only ends up sparking and fizzing out. She hits her hand against the desk in anger before slumping over in defeat.

No one to help her_ and _ no magic. She feels like she’s at a dead end.

She thinks back to what the Regina she just saw, what _ her wife _ said right before she disappeared. She frowns before reaching into her front pocket and finding nothing. Standing up, she tries her back pockets, surprised when her hand actually touches something and she pulls the object out. _ Oh_, memory floods her brain and she remembers how her wife gave her a pocket journal—_right before she died in your arms_, she thinks bitterly. She can’t think of why this would be so important though; flipping through it, the pages are still blank just like when she first got it.

Wondering if maybe she should write something, she rummages around for a pen, opens up to a page and sits there with her pen poised. What the hell should she write?

_ Dear _

And she stops, because who should she address? The book? Regina had said it wasn’t a diary but it’s beginning to feel a lot like one.

_ Dear Pocket Journal, _she writes instead, and laughs at how it sounds so mocking. She sobers when she imagines Regina rolling her eyes at it.

_ Regina, my wife, is the sassiest woman I know. I’ve gotten to the point where I can’t live without her snark or my days are boring without it. Sometimes I wonder why she married me, how I got so lucky. She’s beautiful and smart and can easily take care of herself but I like to think I help make her days a little brighter, help make those smiles on her face a little wider, because I promised her that _

Her head buzzes as she continues to write but she pushes on, not really understanding fully _ what _ she’s writing but knowing she has to write it down somehow.

_ promised her that I would help her find her happy ending. Because she’s worked too hard to have her happiness destroyed and every day I hoped I fulfilled that promise. _

_ With appreciation, Emma _

She slams the journal shut and holds her head, squeezing it as if it would abate the buzzing. Her whole head is throbbing from pain at this point and she’s not quite sure why but she felt like she had to get those words down because they seemed important somehow.

She leans back and sighs when nothing happens after writing in the journal. She had hoped maybe she’d get some sort of clue after, but unfortunately, Regina’s not here to give her any more great ideas. She really doesn’t like being the one left with her memories; she’s terrible at thinking up plans. She wishes the clues or ideas would just drop into her lap like Henry’s book of fairy tales.

Just then she jolts up. _ Book of fairy tales! _ She should search the library and see if she can get any clues or whatever. She knows that Belle has kept some magic books in the back; though she’s not entirely sure they’re still there, it’s worth a shot.

Scrambling up to open the office door—_her office door—_she forgets about the fact that there’s a person on the other side, and she’s immediately faced with none other than Mulan. Mulan, who’s her secretary but stands at the ready and looks at her expectantly like a soldier. Emma awkwardly lets out a, “uh, I’m just going to head out for a bit” and she unnecessarily gestures with her thumb before shuffling away, all while the raven-haired woman just stares at her baffled.

The fresh air was nice once she’s outside, not realizing how stifling the office was until she was out of it. She did feel reluctant to leave, hoping maybe if she stayed around long enough the Regina she knew and loved would show up again, but she’s been in enough curses to know that doing nothing will just keep the curse up longer – for 28 years even.

She strides in the direction of the library—it’s easier, once she has a goal—and it’s only when she’s at a close enough distance that the building flickers and appears into place.

She blinks and rubs her eyes, wondering if she needs to get her eyes checked again.

When she steps in front of it, her steps falter because she sees wooden boards plastered all across the windows and doors. She peeks through cracks and crevices, moving her head around to see as much of the inside as she can but it’s difficult due to how dark it is inside. Is the library closed? She reaches out and puts a hand on a board, hesitating slightly before briefly looking around and then yanking with all her might. The board pries loose with only a dull sound of a nail unsticking out of wood and she repeats this until there’s a crack big enough for her to shimmy her way through.

It feels like she’s trespassing—no wait, she _ is _ trespassing and she glances at the opening she came through with worry. It should be fine, it’s not like she’s stealing anything; looking around, she winces and doubts _ anyone _ would want to steal anything.

It’s dark and musty inside, dust coating every surface she can see. It’s more than obvious that no one has been inside the library for years now, but then, she wonders, where could Belle be if not the library. She can’t imagine the bibliophile anywhere else but with her nose in a book, and that might also be because she hasn’t had the time or chance to really interact with the woman. She’s never been able to hold a conversation with her, not like Regina has been able to, and she attributes that to the fact that they don’t have a lot in common, though Ruby and Belle are best friends and they don’t have a lot in common either, so maybe it’s just her.

She looks around, travelling further and further into the building, the musty smell even stronger deeper in. It got to the point that when she finally makes her way into the back of the library, she doesn’t want to be there anymore. But she already took the effort to get here so she might as well look around anyway, just quickly so she can get out.

The floorboards are wood and creaking with each step and despite the fact that it’s broad daylight outside, it’s pretty dark in the back room and none of the lights work. She’s not particularly scared, but if some gremlin or whatever popped up, she wouldn’t be able to do anything especially with her magic not working.

Bringing up a hand and running a finger past the spines of each book, she skims through and checks the titles. “What the hell?” she mutters under her breath because all of them confuse her. What used to be shelves and shelves of magic books or books about magic or whatever sort of hint on magic Belle could find and store, is now just endless shelves full of fairy tales. Her eyes skim past ‘Snow White’, ‘Little Red Riding Hood’, ‘Beauty and the Beast’, etc, and none of this is going to help her so what the hell is she going to do now?

She keeps going though, hoping there will be some hidden book, but it only starts to get into more and more obscure fairy tales. Eventually she stops in front of one. Her head hurts as she looks at the title, unable to read it clearly, the words phasing in and out and flashes of light appearing in the corners of her eyes. She reaches up and pulls it out, but dust flies everywhere and she coughs and closes her eyes. The book falls to the floor but she’s waving at the dust until it clears before she can catch a good look at it.

She looks down and it’s fallen open somewhere near the end; there’s a voice in her head that’s warning her not to look at it, but she’s bending over and reaching for it without much conscious thought. The voice gets louder when she lifts it up to eye level, the words buzzing around on the page, not quite legible to her but she’s determined to read it.

“_ Dark_-”

“Freeze!”

The book clatters to the floor once again, the words rattling against the edges as if they were objects inside a shaken box. She raises both her hands by habit and squints at the bright light shining at her eyes. “Madame Mayor?” She hears the all too familiar voice calling her title in confusion, and the light is suddenly lowered. She blinks, trying to remove the white spots from her eyes as she adjusts to all the light changes.

“Regina? Why are you here?”

“I received a call about a break-in.” The woman in front of her pauses and crosses her arms, looking wholly unimpressed with her. She notices the way Regina shifted so they didn’t get too close and her heart plummets down to her stomach. “What are you doing here?”

And oh, she’s well acquainted with this Regina: defensive, ready for action, and she wonders if her one careless action has ruined their potential friendship forever. Because even if this isn’t really _ her _ Regina, she can’t help but want to be close to _ any _ version of Regina, curse or not.

“Nothing,” she says with a voice too high to be normal, “I was just…” she trails off, looking at her surroundings, trying to find a clue for an excuse. “I was thinking about reopening the library,” the words fly out of her mouth before she can even consider them, “and I wanted to have a look around and see what needed to be reworked.”

“Oh.” The cursed sheriff reels back a little in surprise before narrowing her eyes. “I didn’t realize there were plans for getting the library back open.”

She sucks her tongue against her teeth as she continues to lie out of her ass, “Yes, I figured it would be good for the town’s education system to at least have access to free books. You can never read too much.” She laughs nervously, hoping this Regina didn’t know all her tics just quite yet.

Regina looks at her apprehensively before hesitantly nodding. “Yeah, that would explain your son, he’s a bright kid.” Emma is suddenly reminded of all the books on science and math sitting in his bookcase and she inwardly winces at the possibility that she—or well, _ her cursed self _ anyway—was extremely strict with him and it stunted his growth as a writer, as a believer and it made him grow into a bitter kid.

The thought that this might have been a possibility—that if she kept Henry instead of giving him away, she would have fundamentally screwed him up—makes her dizzy, and the musky smell from the library isn’t helping. So she throws Regina a forced smile, one without teeth, as she gestures behind the brunette. “Right, well, if you’ll excuse me.” She makes to walk out, brushing past Regina along the way and she almost makes it through before she’s stopped by a hand on her wrist.

She turns to look at the other woman, eyes wide and questioning while Regina just stares her down. “Something you should know, Mayor,” Regina’s voice goes low in a way that might be interpreted as threatening, “I can tell when someone’s lying to me.”

She’s suddenly let go and Regina gives her a dazzling smile. “Anyway, I hear we have a meeting today?” Emma holds down her shiver as the other woman waits for her answer so she nods. She feels like prey under the glare of a tiger as Regina prowls slightly in front of her and it’s been awhile, but it feels like when she first stumbled into Storybrooke and Regina did everything in her power to run her out of town.

“I-“ she starts, but the brunette sheriff has already turned away and she feels like she’s been dismissed. Goddammit, _ she _ was supposed to be the mayor but she can’t channel any sort of authoritative power when it comes to her cursed wife.

“See you later, Madame Mayor.” A smile with all teeth and a surprisingly intimate brush on her shoulder later, Emma finds herself outside the library taking in gulps of air. For some reason it really hurts seeing Regina lash out like this again, the dismissal and the rejection to talk hitting her right in the gut. She knows the signs of anger and running away and she sees it all over this Regina.

And she knows this shouldn’t even be her priority—_she knows what her priority is, it’s breaking the curse—_but she hates the idea that a Regina hates her in any capacity and she wants to amend their tenuous relationship that she could see building into something more when she first invited Regina in for a drink.

Henry. Henry might be the buffer needed to get in Regina’s good graces again; he always was with _ her _ Regina.

* * *

Mind-numbingly painfully boring hours later, she has a newfound admiration for her wife. She doesn’t know how in the world Regina managed to stay sane after decades of being mayor, especially in a small, mostly quiet town like Storybrooke.

But it’s time to pick Henry up, and she’s both ready and horribly _ not _ ready at the same time for the meeting with this town’s sheriff. When she steps out of the mayor’s office, Mulan stands at the ready once again and she quirks an eyebrow. “I’m going to pick up my son, I’ll be back soon.”

Mulan’s eyes pinch together in confusion. “Am I not picking him up today, Mayor?”

And the genuine confusion nearly makes her sick. Her cursed self was apparently too busy to even pick up her own son, and it’s no wonder he grew up bitter. She waves her secretary off. “I’ll be doing it from now on, I’ll tell you when I can’t.”

Mulan nods slowly, but she’s already walking out the door.

* * *

She’s in front of the school, waiting with the other parents, and they eye her like she’s some rare animal. She ignores them though, comforted by the fact that whatever her cursed self did – or didn’t do – wasn’t reflective of who _ she _ is—that, and these were all random people that she didn’t know. Faceless figures surrounding her, judging her, without even knowing who she is. She’s grown somewhat used to it; she has to be, being the saviour and all, but something about the people around her just doesn’t feel real so she’s able to distance herself from the situation.

The bell rings shrilly and Henry walks out with a slouch and a scowl on his face. Then he looks up and notices her and she sees the flash of confusion.

“Mom?” he asks when he gets close enough and she reaches out and hugs him, adding to his confusion. He struggles out of her grasp when the shock passes, however, and she can’t resist the urge to ruffle his hair as she used to always do.

“How was your day?” She tries to bulldoze past the questioning stare but he isn’t having any of it.

“Why are you here?”

She sighs; he’s just as precocious as she remembers and that’s on top of his cursed memories. It makes her proud to know how smart and inquisitive he is, but it’s kinda detrimental to her right now. “I’m here to pick you up,” she says it like it’s the most obvious thing, “and we still have that meeting with Regina.”

He groans and she pulls him in and ruffles his hair again. “But after that we can go to Granny’s and you can get a milkshake or whatever.”

He blinks at her blankly. “Granny’s?”

And she swears loudly inside her head. “Uh, you know, that diner, where Ruby works?”

Henry looks at her like she’s grown two heads and she hates how often she’s seen that look today. “Yeah, that place is called _ Ruby’s_.” Emma’s eyebrows lift in surprise. “And Ruby’s is _ lame_, Mom, everyone goes to _ Goodfeeds_.”

“Oh,” and she tries to hide her panic as Henry looks at her curiously, but breathing starts getting difficult and she feels overwhelmed and completely out of her depth. “Sorry I can’t keep up to date with everything, you know me, _ I’m _ the granny.” She musters up a grin, calming down and knowng she got away with it when her son snorts at the dumb joke. 

“Sure, mom.” He rolls his eyes, then looks around. “Where’s the car?”

She blinks.

* * *

They’re at the mayor’s office, she’s in the office chair and Henry is waiting on the couch.

A knock startles her and she stands without really thinking about it. “Come in,” she croaks out and she clears her throat quickly. She’s definitely not ready for another encounter with Regina but there’s nothing she can do about it now.

The door opens and Regina strides in with swagger and confidence, walking up to her desk and dropping a folder of files. Emma has to keep from biting her lip in nervousness because it’s almost like looking at a version of herself mixed with Regina. “Madame Mayor,” Regina greets lazily and Emma gestures for the other woman to sit.

She then reaches out for Henry to come over and he walks shyly to her side. The cursed sheriff looks at them curiously but smiles at Henry and Emma’s heart blooms with affection. Regina still loves children no matter who she is or where she is.

“Henry has something to say to you.” She looks down at his brown mop of hair and pats it down lightly in reassurance.

“Sorry Sheriff, for graffiting Gold’s place, I won’t do it again.” And Emma beams, happy to do this one mom-like thing, proud of her son for owning up to his mistakes, up until he continues under his breath, “_even if he is an ass. _”

“Henry!” He looks up with wide eyes and she looks down at him sternly, about to reprimand him again, but Regina’s laughter derails her.

“You’re right, he is an ass!” Regina grins and Henry grins happily back. “And apology accepted, kid.”

She sighs; it really is like dealing with herself. “I was thinking maybe Henry could do a little community service.” Her son groans beside her but Regina lights up at the idea.

“Oh yeah, I think that’d be good, my little deputy slave,” Regina hisses playfully at Henry and he groans again and claims he’s old enough to not be called ‘little’.

They banter back and forth a bit and she watches with a smile. He’s still Regina’s kid, through and through and it’s apparent with how comfortable they are with each other. Her cursed self seems to have only brought Henry pain, but Regina’s cursed self seems to be making him happy and she _ longs, _ she _ yearns _ for her days as Regina’s wife again.

She hasn’t really let herself think about it too much, but they had a perfectly normal day that day. A wonderful morning, a beautiful breakfast, a day without incident. How did it all go so horribly wrong?

“Madame Mayor?”

“Mom?”

She finds two pairs of brown eyes staring at her in concern when she’s broken out of her thoughts and she realizes she’s crying. “Sorry,” she turns away to wipe away her tears and she hears her son call out to her again. “I’m fine, I’m fine.” She turns back to him once she—hopefully—removed all evidence that she was crying. “Henry, can you wait outside? I have to speak to Regina about something.”

He frowns, but nods and heads outside. She knows Mulan will keep him occupied or something.

Regina waits patiently and it turns silent inside the stifling office. “Did you need something, Mayor?”

“Don’t,” she shakes her head, “don’t call me that.”

Regina puts her hands up in defence and frowns for a moment. “Okay, Miss Swan then.” And Emma nearly laughs hysterically at that. It’s so familiar but also foreign on the other woman’s lips and she hates it, the name itches at her skin.

“No, no, just call me Emma, please.”

Regina sighs at that though. “You mean like how you keep calling me ‘_Regina_’?” And she winces because aside from calling her _ sheriff _ which she has trouble doing, she can’t think of anything else to call her.

She walks around the desk, not liking the distance between them as they have a serious but personal talk. “I’m really sorry, Regina, for last night, I screwed up.”

Regina leans back on her chair with her arms crossed in front of her. “I could file for harassment, you know, I-”

She quickly holds up her hands. “I know, I know, and if you do, I wouldn’t blame you. I went over the line last night.”

Regina doesn’t say anything for a while and the silence nearly kills her. “I won’t hold it against you,” Regina says quietly, and it’s only when Emma spots the way Regina’s arms and shoulders lose their tenseness, does she breathe a sigh of relief. “You seemed like you were having a tough time.”

She has to hold back a deranged laugh because _ what gave that away? _ She should’ve known Regina would be able to see the desperation in her eyes after _ just _ seeing her wife die. They’ve always been lonely souls, gravitating towards each other no matter which realm they end up in, and that also appears to be the case when they’re cursed.

“It doesn’t excuse my behaviour though, and I really am sorry.” She shakes her head in dismay. “Honestly, I would have liked for us to be friends that night.”

Regina smirks. “Oh, that was _ plenty _ friendly.” Emma gives her an unimpressed look and Regina gives her a look back before stepping away. “Apology accepted though, I would have liked for us to be friends as well.”

“Thank you.”

They smile at each other in silence before Regina stands up and points to the door. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later, May- _ Emma_.”

She smiles and nods, watching the other woman turn away slowly. Her head buzzes then, suddenly filled with images and memories forcefully injected in her head.

She sees Regina. Leaving. _ She’s going to leave her forever. _

“Emma?”

When her eyes refocus, she realizes she’s grabbed onto Regina’s wrist and pulled her back. “Sorry.” She immediately lets go. “A- are we okay?”

_ “Are we okay?” she asks the leaving brunette. The other woman looks at her with unshed tears, and laughs wetly. _

_ “No, Emma, we’re not.” _

“Yeah.” The Regina in front of her grins and the flash of teeth breaks her out of her thoughts. “We’ll be fine, Emma.” And she knows the cursed sheriff is teasing but she can’t help but revel in the playfulness of it. She watches the other woman leave the office without much issue then, and her heart swells at the possibility that they can get much closer. Maybe the kiss didn’t work because this Regina wasn’t in love with her yet. She just needs to get close, get Regina to fall in love and then they can break the curse.

Happy with a new plan, she leaves town hall with Henry and they head out to Goodfeeds, which happens to be run by _ Belle_, which was mystifying but it answers her earlier question of where she is. It’s odd, seeing the book lover in an environment without books, _ or _ adventure for that matter, because she recalls Belle being pretty brave.

Belle’s a bit more brusque here, less like Lacey and more like a combination of Gold plus Granny, which brings up the _ worst _ images in her head and she regrets even thinking about it. Henry happily drinks his milkshake and she manages to get him to hesitantly open up about his day.

By the time they get back home, he’s about ready to fall asleep on his feet, so he quickly gets ready for bed and she tucks him in.

“Mom?” he asks in a small voice as she sits beside him on the bed. She runs her hand through his hair affectionately. “I don’t know what changed, but I like you like this.”

She feels her heart shatter at the insecurity in his voice. “Henry, I want you to remember that no matter what, I’ll always love you, and I’m so sorry I haven’t treated you better.”

_ “I don’t forgive you, Ma, not right now. Especially not after what you did to-“ _

“I forgive you, Mom.” She blinks and looks down; her son has his eyes barely open, and she swoops down and presses a kiss against his forehead.

“Night, Henry.”

* * *

In the quiet of the night, she wanders the mansion on her own. It’s big and empty, devoid of life on the walls. There’s barely any pictures of Henry and even less of both her and Henry and she misses it, misses her life with Regina, the life that they built over the years. She doesn’t know how she feels about having to go through the painful process of pining over Regina again but she knows her son’s other mother is worth it, if not solely for the fact that she hates it when Regina isn’t taking care of Henry with her.

Because in the end, it always comes down to Henry, doesn’t it? It’s all synonymous with love and family and she’s built this family for herself. She refuses to give up on it.

At some point in the night, she finally decides that she should try to sleep. She quietly goes up the stairs and pushes the door to her and Regina’s bedroom lightly. She slips in and closes the door behind her, flipping the lights on.

_ “Emma. _”

She jumps back, hitting the door she just closed, barely holding in her scream. And she should be pissed but… “Regina,” she breathes out in surprise. There Regina is, _ her wife_, appearing before her once again. This shouldn’t be possible though, not when another Regina is probably asleep across town; she already pushed the encounter in her office as some sort of fluke or wishful thinking so she doesn’t understand what’s happening right now.

She stumbles forward in her haste to get as close as possible to her wife, lifting a hand to caress her face but she’s stopped with a head shake. Regina reaches forward instead to wipe away the tears falling freely down her cheek but she doesn’t actually feel anything, only the presence of a hand and not the physicality of it.

“You’re not real, are you?” And hearing the truth of her own words as well as seeing the sad smile on Regina’s face causes her pain. Memories of what happened before she got here, memories of Regina on the floor, bleeding out, fills her mind and she hopes that all of it is untrue. Because there _ is _ a Regina, both here and somewhere in town, thinking she’s a sheriff, and she can’t help but think that everything will be fine. As long as Regina’s alive and well, she can do this, she can break this curse.

_ “Please remember_.”

She frowns; what exactly does she need to remember? Is this another reference to the journal? She already wrote in it and nothing happened but maybe she just needs to write in it more? She hates cryptic clues and she hates it even more when her precious time with her wife is spent on them.

Regina starts to fade and she can already hear herself yelling, “No, wait! Don’t leave!” But it’s too late and she’s soon left alone in the large bedroom, with a much too large bed.

She crawls under the sheets, exhaustion hitting her bones, curling up on her side of the bed, even if no one sleeps on the other side, and she turns to the nightstand. She sees an object on the small table even if there wasn’t anything there before. Her mind doesn’t seem to understand what she’s looking at however, her brain comprehending yet not quite comprehending what she’s seeing. Only after staring at it for two minutes does she realize it’s her journal.

But before she could think about it any longer, she succumbs to sleep.


	3. Choice

_ Dear Journal, _

_ Thinking back on it, I can’t even believe I had the life I did, how I managed to create my family. Henry and Regina, no matter what, they’re the family I chose. _

_ I sometimes think about past Emma. The old Emma would’ve probably been scared shitless to love, actually, I knew she was scared shitless. There she was, suddenly thrown into a bunch of situations involving magic, but above all that, there’s a son that claims to love her and a woman that she can’t help but get close to. _

_ It’s amazing how far I’ve come. _

_ Those days where Regina’s my wife and we’re happily living together always felt like a dream, now they’re the only pieces of memory I cling on to for my sanity. It’s what helps me sleep at night and the reason I get up in the morning, to once again see both Henry and Regina. _

_ To get back to my family. _

_ But speaking of past Emma, Regina was scared to love too wasn’t she? She always said she loved too strongly and I got to experience that. God, how in the world did us 2 cowards ever get out of our heads long enough to be together? _

_ But I know now, how it feels to be loved by Regina and it’s the greatest feeling ever. I wouldn’t know what to do without it now. Past Emma would be super envious but I’d tell her to take the chance because the pros outweigh the cons, being in love with Regina and being loved by Regina are both great things and I don’t regret going for it at all. _

_ I think if I could go back in time and tell past Emma something I’d say, stop wasting your time. Choose Regina. _

_ Always choose Regina. _

_ Sincerely, Emma _

* * *

“Hard at work I see.”

She steps into the bullpen and sees Regina shooting paper baskets and she holds in her chuckle. She’ll have a lot of fun teasing her wife about that when she breaks the curse.

Regina startles and misses the shot. “Mayo- _ Emma_, how may I help you?” Regina quickly stands up and Emma shakes her head and gestures for her to calm down.

“I have a few forms I need you to sign.” She holds up a manila folder filled with paper but honestly, it was just a poor excuse to see Regina.

“Ah,” Regina’s eyes lose their sparkle and she slumps a bit, “right, I’ll get on that.”

Regina reaches forward to take it from her hand but she lifts it out of reach and Regina frowns at her. “Before I take you away from your _ hard work_,” she says with a teasing lilt, “I would like to invite you over for dinner.”

And it’s only at the surprised look on the other woman’s face that she quickly amends, “With Henry, of course!”

The brunette sheriff’s eyes gleam again and a small piece of Emma breaks into tiny pieces. “How is your son, anyway?”

“Good, better, you were right.” Over the past few days she’s been spending more time with her cursed son and he’s been really warming up to her, much to her pleasure. She doesn’t feel like such a giant screw-up all the time now. Spending time with him also distracted her from gravitating towards Regina, as she’s accustomed to doing so, giving the other woman the time and space she deserved.

Emma also spent some time looking for a way to break the curse without True Love’s Kiss—she tried kissing Henry on the forehead and that didn’t work either—and she found Regina’s vault but it’s been cleared of all its contents. She doesn’t dare try the library again in case Regina gets _ really _ suspicious and Gold’s place is always devoid of people for some reason.

In the end, she wasn’t any closer to breaking the curse as she was a few days ago.

“You should know, I’m always right, Madame Mayor,” Regina says, standing up straighter and preening herself.

She rolls her eyes and throws the folder in the other woman’s face. “So are you coming or not?” She’s been slowly trying to incorporate more ‘Emma-like’ words than ‘Regina-like’ into her daily conversations so it’s not such a huge shock when she acts less characteristically _ mayor _ and more _ disaster. _

Regina pretends to take a moment to think on it before shrugging and nodding and it’s something she’s noticed as well, the way that Regina has been showing more and more sass towards her. Like the curse was slowly dissolving or the universe was balancing itself. Soon they’re just going to be Emma and Regina, and it’s something she’s willing to wait for even if it takes a day, a month, a year, or even a decade.

“Great, I’ll see you then.”

Regina gives her a secret smile. “Until then.”

And Emma, being the disaster that she is, and can’t act like a proper mayor to save her life, bumps into the wall while she’s leaving. She quickly makes her way out as smoothly as she can and for a moment she thinks she accomplished it, but then she hears the other woman snort behind her right before she exits out the station.

So today could have gone better.

It’s later that day when she opens the front door of her house and sees a Regina in the middle of deciding whether she should stuff her hands in her pockets or take them out, or whether or not she should casually lean against the columns on the front porch, that she thinks life will be alright. And Henry clambering down the stairs for dinner, sulking slightly like the cursed teenager that he is, and then beaming when he sees Regina feels like _ home _ to her.

She thinks of Friday night dinners with Henry and late night talks in Regina’s study. She thinks of weekdays of staying in pajamas and playing video games and baking cookies. She thinks of going out on road trips or just hanging out playing board games.

She misses her family.

* * *

These dinners continue; Henry getting more and more attached to Regina the longer they hang out because he’s also still doing community service after school. She’s only a little jealous that he gets to hang out with Regina longer than she gets to in a day but she likes seeing them bond.

For once, Regina’s the ‘cool’ one and she likes seeing the unbridled joy in Regina’s eyes whenever she looks fondly at Henry. Emma thinks of _ ‘you’re not my real mom!’ _ and _ ‘you don’t love me, the Evil Queen can’t love’ _ and her heart pangs in sympathy for Regina. Thankfully, there’s none of that hanging over them.

“Thank you, Emma,” Regina says after a few dinner nights together, and the brunette has her hand on Emma’s arm, squeezing lightly, “thank you for inviting me.”

She shrugs and smiles, not even trying to hide her affection for the other woman at this point. “You’re welcome any time, Regina.”

And the smile she receives blooms hope in her chest.

* * *

She winces when the noisy bell signifies her arrival, and it’s even more amplified when the diner is empty.

“Madame Mayor!” Ruby says in surprise and she almost laughs.

“Please, call me Emma.” She leans against the counter with Ruby opposite her and she sees the owner—as she’s learned—lift her eyebrows at the request.

“Call me Ruby then,” the woman says it like it’s the hardest thing but it actually makes Emma’s job easier.

She gives a triumphant smirk. “Okay, _ Ruby_.” And she ignores the gaping mouth surprise from Ruby and grabs a menu, double checking that her favourite was still there. “I’ll have a grilled cheese then.” If possible, the brunette’s eyes get even bigger.

“You ordered a _ bear claw _ last time as well, should I be worried that the mayor suddenly wants high calorie foods?”

“If you don’t want my business I can always leave,” she says teasingly with a roll of her eyes and Ruby salutes and heads to the back. Emma sighs when Ruby's out of sight, she’s seeing bits and pieces of the Ruby she knows and loves and she really just wants her best friend back.

She leans against the counter, taking the time to look around as she waits. There’s at most six people in the diner—two dwarves, a fairy and three humans, not that they remember who they are. She wonders if it’s normal to be this empty, she’s only looked in on the diner through the window, never finding the time to drop by because Henry prefers the other place.

She hears the bell from above the door ring but doesn’t bother to look until she feels a presence beside her. “Funny seeing you here, _ Mayor_.”

She turns around in surprise. “Regina,” she sees the other woman giving her an amused smirk, “what are you doing here?”

The cursed sheriff waves as if the question was bothersome. “Goodfeeds is too pretentious for someone like me, I’m more of a burger and beer kinda gal.” Emma has to hold in the involuntary scrunch of her nose because she doesn’t think Regina has _ ever _ been a _ burger and beer _ kind of _ anything _ . “The question is, what are _ you _ doing here?” Regina gestures around the diner, gathering some attention and Emma winces, quickly grabbing the waving hand. “Sorry to break it to you, but I don’t think the menu has kale salad,” Regina says with a smirk, and something about that sentence just seems so ironic to her.

Right when she opens her mouth about to tease back, Ruby comes in with an, “A grilled cheese for you, Mayor, oh! Sheriff!” And the part amused, part smug smirk Regina’s sporting makes her a little embarrassed even when she knows she shouldn’t be. She’s not _ actually _ the mayor, she’s not Regina, so why _ can’t _ she indulge in some cheesy goodness? She still feels like she’s being judged, however.

Regina steps up until she’s leaning over her as she waves to the diner’s owner. “Hey Ruby, I’ll just have my usual.” Ruby nods and disappears again but Emma narrows her eyes.

“Come here often?”

Regina smiles. “You always use cliché pickup lines in rundown diners?” Emma sputters, not sure how to answer, and not used to this kind of flirtatious Regina, not especially when she personally decided she was going to give the other woman space. “But yeah, this place is my go-to, something about it just feels familiar.” There’s a faraway look in the brunette’s eyes and Emma looks at her with longing.

“I get what you mean, if it weren’t for Henry, I’d come here more often. I think he likes Belle.”

Regina laughs at that. “Don’t let Ruby hear you say that, she might be still bitter that they’ve broken up, and now the Beauty’s stealing children’s hearts.”

Her eyebrows raise at the mention of Belle’s fairy tale nickname but she chooses not to draw attention to it, maybe the curse was weakening? Or maybe it’s just not a very good curse.

“Wait, Belle and Ruby were together?” She remembers Ruby and Mulan staring and smiling at each other in the corner of a busy diner, stolen moments where they think no one’s watching. She remembers Mulan, her deputy, asking where would be good place for a first date, especially for a _ ‘great girl’ _ like Ruby and she remembers teasing and helping the usually stoic warrior. She got so accustomed to seeing them together that they’ve become a unit, so it’s jarring when she tries to think of Ruby with anybody else.

“Yeah,” Regina leans in closer and speaks with a lower voice, “Belle got more and more controlling and Ruby wanted more and more freedom so she started spending all her time at the diner. Eventually they broke up, but the fight was huge. Belle then built the business Goodfeeds as a retaliation, but I think it’s just another manipulative ploy to get Ruby back.”

Emma frowns at the information, it’s beginning to sound like Belle somehow merged with Gold, considering her personality. She hasn’t noticed anything odd from the times she did see her bustling about in her restaurant. “How do you figure it’s a manipulation?”

Regina rolls her eyes and gives her a look like she can’t believe Emma can’t see something so obvious. “If Belle runs Ruby’s business down into the ground then there will be nowhere left for her to go, so the only place is back into Belle’s arms.”

She grimaces, that definitely sounds like a Gold thing to do.

“You’re the mayor,” Regina says suddenly with a frown, “you should know all this already actually.”

She panics. “Uh, yeah, of course I knew about this, I gave Belle the business permit after all.” She inwardly curses when she remembers that she’s horrible at lying when it comes to Regina and she knows she’s fucked when the cursed sheriff gives her an unimpressed stare.

She slumps in defeat. “No, you’re right, I had no clue.” And it’s just the right amount of truth that it satisfies Regina’s lie detector and the cursed sheriff nods and smiles.

Ruby comes back with Regina’s order and she grabs it before making her way out, pulling Emma with her. “You were never really involved in citizen affairs before, but I can see you trying now.” And she shouldn’t feel guilty but the trusting smile Regina throws her way makes her feel like a bad person.

* * *

When Regina barges into her office one morning with lunch she can tell that the other woman is getting much more comfortable with her. She gets a flash of memory where she did the exact same thing, only she’s behind the desk now.

She’s not going to call herself a _ queen _ though, because despite Regina acting somewhat very similarly to Emma, the woman still carries herself like a queen. Emma doesn’t think that will ever change.

They’re also not in the middle of trying to find Regina’s happy en-

* * *

It’s one night after crawling into bed that she looks beside her to the untouched side of the bed that would have been her wife’s. She hasn’t seen her at all recently and even though she’s already chalked it up as some sort of hallucination or figment of her imagination, she still wants to see the Regina she’s more familiar with.

She’s happy that she’s getting closer with Sheriff Regina. She’s grown to love the roughness, the moral justice, and the confidence, it’s almost like seeing a new side of Regina, or a side that's always been there but repressed. Thinking it in terms of that way, she can view the cursed sheriff as just her wife letting loose and her fondness for the other woman never ceases. But it’s also just not the same.

She just wants this curse over so she can just go back to her regular life, whatever regular means. And she feels a little guilty for keeping the truth about the curse thing from the sheriff, but she also gets that whatever she’d say would just land her in the looney bin. There’s really just no way to make people accept magic is real unless they actually see it with their own eyes. Hell, even _ she _ couldn’t believe it even after facing a dragon and seeing people shoot fireballs from their hands.

She’s trying to get closer to the cursed Regina, not drive her away. So unfortunately, she’s going to have to withhold the truth, however guilty she feels about it.

She sighs and runs a hand down the smooth blanket, removing the creases that her side is creating and longing to touch dark hair, olive skin and plump lips. She yearns for Regina’s special brand of sarcasm and the way she looks at her with trust and love.

It’ll be fine though, she tells herself. She’s getting comfortable in this cursed life and eventually something will happen and break it. She smiles wryly at herself, god she sounds like her mom.

Where is Mary Margaret anyway?

* * *

She wasn’t expecting an answer to that question.

Much less the answer to be in the form of ‘Mary Margaret is a bartender of a seedy bar’.

But here she is.

“C’mon, Emma, you need to relax once in a while.” Regina pulls her into the bar on a Friday night. Both ecstatic to find that Henry’s surly attitude has lessened and he has enough friends to have a sleepover now. From what Emma gathers, her cursed self never let Henry sleep at anyone’s house or have any friends over and that really hurt his chances of having any lasting friendships, but with her being more, well, _ Emma_, he’s starting to be happy again.

Regina was happy to hear the news of course, but apparently they have different ideas of celebrating. The brunette decides that they should go out drinking and Emma has to wince at the fact that she hasn’t been out to drink since marrying Regina, both more the type to just stay in and drink together. She doesn’t think Regina’s really an extrovert, but gives the illusion of being one for the sake of appearing stronger, and she does the same thing so she could relate.

Unfortunately, none of these things matter with the Regina now and she hesitantly lets herself be dragged into the bar.

“Thursdays are karaoke nights so we’ll have to come back on one of those days.”

Emma smiles indulgently at the happy gleam in Regina’s eyes. “Sure, sounds good.”

They sit at the bar, letting bigger groups grab tables since it’s just the two of them and Emma is scared for a moment that Regina will want to dance with someone. They’re not dating, sure, and technically Regina isn’t her wife right now – _ semantics _ – but she sure as hell still doesn’t want to see her not-wife grinding against some nobody.

She’s broken out of her thoughts by the bartender, who not so nicely butts her face in between them. “What’ll you be having tonight?”

“Mo- Mary Margaret?” She gives the woman behind the bar an incredulous look and her cursed mom just looks at her dully.

“Your order?”

Regina quickly takes the attention off of Emma by gesturing. “Two shots.” Mary Margaret nods and leaves quickly, already bored of it all and Emma can’t help but stare disbelievingly at the other woman’s back.

“You know her?” And it’s the slight edge of jealousy in Regina’s voice that makes her head rear back and stare at the sheriff in horror.

“Ew, _ no_, I mean, yes, but not like _ that_, oh my god.”

And something about her expression must have been hilarious because Regina went quickly from shocked to wheezing out a laugh, the force of the laugh knocking her over in her seat that she has to hold onto Emma’s arm to keep balance. Emma just sits there pouting, waiting for her laughter to subside but also unable to stop the quirk to her lips as she watches the other woman with amusement. Simply breathing in the fact that the brunette seems so happy.

Regina must see it in her eyes because when she straightens up, she smiles, her hand still gripping Emma’s arm lightly as they lock eyes.

“Here you go, ladies.” Mary Margaret breaks their eye contact, Regina quickly turning to look at the drinks that were slapped right on the counter.

The cursed sheriff holds out the drink to her. “Cheers.”

“Wait,” Emma says, stopping Regina from taking the shot, “what are we ‘cheering’ for?”

Regina thinks about it for a moment before raising the glass again. “For Henry!”

She laughs and picks up her shot as well. “For Henry.” Their glasses clink before they both down the shot and it burns so good down her throat as she chases it down quickly with a lemon. She’s not really a lightweight but when Regina shoots her a carefree grin after, she feels dizzy. They drank together at Granny’s too didn’t they, she’d been all nerves that night as well, wanting to stay near Regina, the gravitational pull too strong.

“You’re a great mom, just so you know”, Regina reaches over and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and her face burns, either from the action or from the alcohol, she’s not sure.

“If you say so. I’m really just trying not to mess him up.” She wants to tell the other woman that she’s a better mother and that she’s really just trying not to blow the whole house down until she can reverse this curse. She really doesn’t want to be thinking about the curse right now though. “Mary Margaret, one more round, please.”

She hoped that would change the subject but Regina seems undeterred. “No, really. And you didn’t have to lie about the library thing, you could’ve just told me you were looking for a book for Henry.”

Her blood runs cold then. “What?”

A new round of shots appear and Regina drinks hers without preamble before answering. “That book, you know, the one about fairy tales you were looking at before I caught you? About the Saviour.” And Regina’s completely not catching the way Emma’s heart has seemed to stop as she tries to digest that information.

Emma quickly inhales her shot, immediately ordering another round.

“You okay?” She looks over and sees the concerned knit of eyebrows Regina always gets when she’s confused but also worried. She reaches out without thinking, her mind beginning to have a pleasant buzz, a fog clouding her thoughts, and she wipes delicately at Regina’s forehead, trying to wipe away the wrinkles. The other woman softens at the touch but grabs her hand and pulls it away.

“I’m fine, just wanna not think about anything and just stay in this moment for a bit.” And she means it, she doesn’t want to deal with the curse right now, and that tidbit of information is going to jumpstart her whole investigation again and she’s so _ tired _. She just wants this woman in front of her, but also not in front of her because this isn’t the Regina she fully wants but it’s also a part of her and no matter what she’s going to love her.

“Let’s continue drinking, I didn’t take you for a lightweight, Mills.” She grins when the brunette shoots her a death glare.

“Those are fighting words, Swan.”

She laughs and Regina orders a few more rounds of shots. Later in the night they’re both giggling like schoolgirls, completely sloshed and Emma’s mind gloriously blank.

“So tell me, _ Emma_, do you always invite women into your study when you first meet them?”

There’s a teasing glint in Regina’s eyes and she opens her mouth without meaning to. “Just you,” she says with more sincerity than she means to and Regina looks momentarily sobered up. That’s when Emma is aware of the hand firmly on her thigh and how close they’ve gotten to each other.

She can’t tell if it’s because they’re both having balance issues or if it’s just the way Emma always wants to get closer. Either way, it feels nice, just to be breathing in the same air as Regina’s.

“C’mon, let’s dance.” And normally she’d protest—she’s bad at dancing after all, and after drinking that much, she’s probably even worse—but she gets up and clumsily follows and they both somehow make it onto the dance floor, giggling the whole way through. Regina shakes her body like a beautiful lunatic and she laughs while waving her limbs around. They’re both a mess but she hasn’t felt this happy in so long.

A slow song starts and without even verbal confirmation they snap together like puzzle pieces, their legs moving in the same rhythm as they sway side to side.

_ Regina’s in a white dress, their hands pressed against each other as they wave it about their body. She smells nice; it’s earthy here and Regina feels like royalty in her element, while she feels herself floundering. _

_“Follow my lead,” Regina whispers in her ear, gripping her waist, and they move to the beat of the lone violinist._ _She focuses as much as she can on the feel of Regina against her, of the music moving through her and not the multiple voices whispering in her head._

_ “Emma?” _

“Emma?” She blinks, remembering that she’s in a bar. Her head is leaned right against Regina’s as she looks past her shoulder and she hugs the body even tighter against her. They resume moving, she must have stopped for a moment. “I’m fine.” The remnants of the memory fading away into the recesses of her mind. “You’re here.”

She feels the arm around her waist squeeze lightly. “I’m here,” Regina promises against her ear and she shivers.

And they’re close, and she can smell Regina again. There’s a slightly different smell, something less earthy and more alcohol and leather jackets. Under all that is just Regina though, and that smell will never change. She traces Regina’s jaw with her nose and she feels more than hears the sudden inhale from the other woman.

She’s suddenly pushed back and all she can she is the glittering affection in large brown eyes and they both lean forward, meeting in the middle, their lips locked and moving in tandem.

It’s familiar and yet unfamiliar all at once. Regina yet not Regina.

** _choose power_ **

She pulls back suddenly, practically shoving Regina away from her, when she hears those words hissed loudly in her head. Her eyes are wide with panic as she watches the way Regina’s eyes startle open.

“Oh,” Regina breathes out as her eyes rove about her face.

She needs to reassure the other woman, she understands that, but her mind is still reeling from the kiss and the _ voices in her head _ and she helplessly sputters out an, “uh.”

Which is not helpful in the slightest because Regina has this look like she’s about to cry and Emma reaches out but the brunette pulls back even more. “I’m- _ Sorry _, I guess I misunderstood.” And Regina turns to leave,

_ her dark hair swishing from the momentum of how fast she turned. _

_ “Regina-“ _

_ It’s dark but she can still see the glittering gold in Regina’s cloak under the moonlight. _

“Regina, stop!” She chases after the brunette. Another figure moving in the corner catches her eye as she rushes out and she notices that it’s her wife. She doesn’t know why her wife is shaking her head but she turns back to the cursed sheriff, running after the woman that’s leaving the bar instead of going after her wife.

“Regina! Please stop run-“

Regina whirls around in anger, the sound of boots crunching on pavement. “Why should I, _ Emma _ ?” She stops, surprised at the furious look being shone her way. “You know, I thought- _ God, _ I don’t know what I thought, but maybe I thought we made sense together.”

“We do,” she says quietly, trying to pacify the woman and stepping closer, but Regina just takes another step back.

“_You _ kissed _ me _ on that night, and I- I thought maybe you liked me, then you pulled back, gave me distance and _ started again _ and just-“ Regina’s full on ranting now, moving her hands and not quite seeing Emma, so caught up in her own memories. Emma moves closer to the other woman, edging the sidewalk.

“But you don’t actually see me _ do you_,” Regina continues, and those words stop her dead in her tracks, “no, you’re always somehow seeing _ through _ me, like you’re searching for someone else. You don’t want _ me _.”

“No, _ I do _. Regina, I’ll always choose you.”

_ “But you didn’t.” _

Her head snaps to the side and she sees her wife staring at her. There’s a cold dead look in her eyes; but before she can ask what she means though, she hears a _ thump _ and she turns back to the cursed Regina.

“N-“ She barely registers the squeal of tires as the car drives quickly away. A hit and run. The hit was Regina. “No-“ She runs forward onto the street, uncaring of everything else, the only thing she can focus on is the woman she gathers up into her arms.

“Regina, Regina! Stay with me- No, stay with me!” There’s blood on Regina’s forehead and temple, and it trickles slowly down her cheek, a dark red trail. The woman is unconscious and unresponsive and Emma’s screaming for an ambulance but there’s suddenly no sound around them.

She can’t hear the loud music from the bar behind her, she can’t see the trees on the far side of the town from where she is either. A fog has rolled in and shrouded them and her mind flashes between images of her wife, stabbed, and the cursed Regina, run over by a car.

It’s too much.

_ It’s too much. _

She needs to fix this.

_ She will fix this. _

Her vision then fills with white, she feels momentarily weightless, her head buzzing unpleasantly and her ears ringing loudly. She feels energy drain out of her, feels how it’s pulled from her skin without her consent and it feels grimy and gross, a type of feeling she never associated with magic before. Especially not her own.

But it’s there, underneath her skin, bubbling with power and it’s overwhelming.

Then _ thump _ she finds herself sprawled on wood flooring with Ruby standing over her.

“You alright?”

She quickly scrambles up and sits on the nearest seat she can find. It happens to be a bench and when she looks around she sees low lit candles, barrels, and wood—_wood everywhere_.

Shit.

“Swan, you alright?” Ruby’s still looking at her with concern and she nods, not trusting herself to speak and apparently that was enough for Ruby, who’s wearing this rather revealing barmaid top. And that makes sense because apparently she’s in a _ tavern _.

She’s in the Enchanted Forest now, isn’t she.

_ Double shit. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna be honest, I wish I had more time to flesh out Sheriff Regina :(


	4. Death

There’s cold sweat dripping down the back of her neck, it’s gross and she shivers. Her eyes dart everywhere, taking in as much of the building she’s in as she can. She has _ no _ idea what’s happening or what happened. Regina was-

Regina was-

Her head hurts and she wants to cry. She still feels a little tipsy from all the shots she had with-

She finds it fitting that she’s in a tavern right now actually. That’s what these places are called right? _ Taverns_. God, her head is all jumbled up and she doesn’t know which way’s up and which way’s down and her entire being just _ hurts_.

There’s cheering at a bench further from her and she glances over and recognizes a bunch of the dwarves. She looks back at Ruby, who’s bartending, and she’s trying to wrap her mind around it all. Is this another curse? Did she break the last one?

What if- And her mind whirls in hyperspeed, _ What if the curse is tied to Regina? _ And it would explain a lot, the way she keeps seeing her all over the place. She doesn’t understand why she’s the only one with her own set of memories though, but it feels like when she was trapped in the Author’s book, chained ‘til the brink of insanity, and Regina nearly died then too.

Maybe it’s not a curse, maybe she’s in another book and the story ends when Regina dies. She doesn’t know how she feels about that. Actually, that’s a lie, she does know how she feels about that, she doesn’t want to see another version of Regina die ever again, she doesn’t-

Her mind flashes back to the last time she saw Regina.

The squealing of tires, the smell of blood and iron, the body in her arms rapidly turning cold.

That was her fault, wasn’t it? She turned the woman away—she doesn’t even know why—and then that was what made Regina run off. She was the cause.

Her hands shake and she looks down at them in surprise. Blood coats them, gathering in her palms, dripping down her arms, escaping past her fingertips. Dripping down onto the table in front of her, staining the wood and falling through the cracks until it drops onto the floor.

Before she knows it, the floor is flooded with blood, she’s surrounded by a sea of red. It floods the building until she sees nothing but red blood up to her knees and it bubbles. A few things float up to the surface: hard round metal with a pointed tip, glinting under the candle light; broken pieces of an arrow; and then Regina’s head bobs up and floats on the surface, eyes dead and unseeing.

She quickly scrambles up, tripping over the bench she was sitting on in haste and nearly falling, but she feels a pair of arms on her.

She thrashes against the body but she hears someone call out to her. “Swan, Swan! Calm down!” She spins and sees Ruby again with her hands up trying to placate her. “What’s wrong?”

She looks wildly around and the blood is all gone, even if she can still smell the scent of iron, even if the image of Regina’s soulless eyes are still burned into her brain. “I’m-“ She sees the group of dwarves looking at her warily and her face burns. “Sorry, I just need some air.” She rushes out and Ruby doesn’t bother to give chase, which she’s grateful for.

It’s dark out; the only light she can see for miles seem to be just from the building she just exited out of. She also confirmed that she’s indeed in the Enchanted Forest, or somewhere like it—she’s not sure how many realms are out there—because all she can see are straw roofs, trees and mountains.

The air is thankfully nice and clean though and she breathes in deep, stepping a little more into the dark and further away from the tavern but not too far because she doesn’t know the area well.

She catches movement to the side and she throws on her cloak and hood, backing further into the darkness, watching the small figure warily while they step more into the light.

“Um, excuse me?” Emma’s eyes nearly bulge out of her head when she hears the distinct voice, so familiar yet not. And there young Regina stands, nervously fiddling with the large cloak around her small frame, shivering lightly at the cold, and she was expecting to see a _ Regina _ at some point but not like _ this_.

This Regina is small, having not mastered the technique of appearing large even if she’s small in stature. There’s no confidence in her shoulders and she appears almost hunched over, giving the illusion of being even smaller than she actually is. She’s never seen this version of Regina, considering she’s in what she can assume is the Enchanted Forest; she half expected to see the Evil Queen decked out in a corset and a large poofy dress. And she knew how to handle the _ Evil Queen, _ but _ this _ Regina, this Regina she has no clue.

She almost laughs at the realization that she’s older than Regina for once in her life.

Seeing that the young girl is waiting for her to answer, she hesitates, warring between wanting and not wanting to be close to a Regina again. To open herself to the possibility of losing her once more. But there’s always that reflex, that innate response to help out Regina in whatever shape or form, and she can’t make herself ignore a young and vulnerable girl alone. So in the end she answers with a gruff, “yeah?” Trying to make her voice deeper than it actually is and hiding herself more under her hood.

And the hesitant smile she receives really shouldn’t cause her so much pain, but it does. A stab right in her gut while something heavy sits at the pit of her stomach.

Regina looks curiously up at the tavern signage and peeks at the bright room inside before pointing to it, “May I ask the purpose of this place?” And Emma panics because _ oh god _ , she’s young, vulnerable _ and _ naive and Emma definitely doesn’t want to leave this Regina alone now. But she can’t handle being close to another version of Regina; she’s already starting to hallucinate blood.

“It’s a place for unwinding and drinking, young miss,” she says with as much apathy as possible; in fact, she tries not to even look at the girl for too long. From what she could see, this Regina might be around 17-18, which brings her back to when _ she _ was that age.

At 17 Emma was also young, but also really stupid, something she can’t imagine Regina being. Despite her age, Regina still looks intelligent, very much like the Regina she knows but with more wide-eyed curiosity and determination that she only sees from her wife when she’s on the verge of a breakthrough.

Young Regina nods and turns more towards the building—something that Emma sees from the corner of her eye—before lifting her head up high and straightening her back, the epitome of fake confidence, and walks right into the tavern

“Shit,” Emma mutters under her breath; she’s still not sure if this is a curse or a really elaborate dream at this point, but she knows that everyone’s different. And even though she knows what Ruby is like, she doesn’t know the Ruby _ here. _ So she sighs and begrudgingly follows at a distance and goes back into the tavern, picking a table further away from the young brunette and watching her from the shadows.

“Hi, sweetie,” Ruby greets the young girl softly, but that still makes her jump a bit so the leggy barmaid stays at a distance. Emma doesn’t hear Regina from where she’s sitting but Ruby laughs, “Don’t worry about it, hun, what drink can I get you?” She can only assume Regina was muttering under her breath so she wouldn’t catch any attention because she’s saying something again, Ruby nodding then leaving, presumably to get the young girl’s drink.

Emma’s had more than enough to drink—she quickly tries to brush her memories away before they can fully arise—and if something happens to Regina, she won’t be able to help if she’s tripping over her own feet. So she just broods there, watching as the young brunette takes a tentative sip from the ale Ruby brings over.

It’s clear from the revulsion on her face that this young version of Regina has not had alcohol before, and Emma can’t help but watch as Regina tries not to gag at the taste. Before she knew it, she’s smiling to herself because she can’t help it, and young Regina is cute. She wonders about what a younger version of herself and this Regina would be like together. Would they fight like during their first meeting? Or would it be instant attraction, like puppy-love?

So lost in her thoughts, she doesn’t notice when a man lumbers over to the young brunette until she hears, “Unhand me, you brute!” And it’s supposed to sound intimidating but it comes out as nothing but a squeak. It’s enough to make Emma focus back into the present and she quickly stands without thinking too hard about it.

She stomps over, seeing red when she looks at the man’s meaty hand around Regina’s thin wrist and her plan to remain aloof and uninvolved gets completely thrown out the window.

Who was she even kidding though, she could never stay away from Regina no matter what shape or form; even during the curse she had a hard time staying away from the bitchy Madame Mayor. And seeing this terrified and small version of her makes it even harder to stay away.

She reaches out and her hand clamps down on the man’s wrist, pulling it away from Regina and also shocking the inebriated guy.

“Whadd’you want?” the man slurs and she pulls him in before kneeing him in the gut, throwing him backwards as he stumbles and howls in pain. “You bitch!” he screams as he scrambles forward and gets ready to barrel into her and she makes a stance, ready to face him head on.

But Ruby rushes over and pops in between them.

“Alright, alright, no fighting in my tavern!” Ruby says with her hands on her hips and staring them both down. Emma doesn’t say anything, and the guy picks himself up and sneers at them both before going back to his table slouched over. Ruby, satisfied with the resolution to the problem, nods and continues on with her job.

She, herself, noticing that she’s not needed anymore, makes to walk back as well but is swiftly stopped by a hand on her arm. When she turns and looks down, she sees Regina looking up at her.

“It’s you!” _ Shit, _she thinks, because of course now she remembers her previous plan about staying away. Obviously that’s not working out so well for her. “Please, come sit with me.” Regina lets go but slides down the bench, patting the seat beside her and she doesn’t know what she should do.

“I should really-“ Emma points at the table in the corner she was sitting at before, but Regina seems undeterred.

“Shall I buy you a round of ale? It is the least I can do for my saviour.” And those words cause her to wince but she ends up sitting down anyway.

“I’m not some saviour, miss,” she says with her voice still as low as she can make it. “I’ve done too many bad things, let too many people down, to be a saviour.” She reaches over for Regina’s forgotten beer and sips at that so she doesn’t have to speak any more, but the brunette has that gleam of curiosity in her eye.

“Really? Do tell then.” It’s all indignant and all Regina as she _ demands _ for stories and doesn’t ask for them.

Emma shakes her head in disbelief at the fact that even young, Regina's still a force to be reckoned with. But then she thinks about how she should answer, and her mind flashes back to the blood, to the way it stained her hands in a way that she would never be able to get rid of even if she soaked them in bleach. There’s also the smell, the stench of blood, of iron in her mouth and filling her lungs. She doesn’t know why these things are so vivid to her, but they’re stuck in the forefront of her mind as if she has experienced all these things.

As if they’re real.

She shakes her head though; telling Regina any of these things isn’t productive at all and she continues to drink instead. Regina frowns at her silence and when Emma puts down the tankard, she quickly steals it and attempts to chug it down only to stop as soon as the beer touches her lips. She pulls it away quickly, nearly choking on the drink.

“Oh, that is _ vile_,” Regina sputters out in-between coughing and she glares at the drink like it wronged her.

Emma bites at the side of her cheek, trying to hide her smile, but she doesn’t think she’s doing a good job of it. She reaches out nonchalantly and pulls the cup away from the girl, resisting the urge to tap her back and help her from her cough. “You really don’t belong here, miss.” It’s not difficult to sound patronizing when she imagines herself talking to someone little and as she suspected, the tone immediately irks Regina.

“I have a name you know.” And there’s fire in the young girl’s eyes, something that makes Emma far more pleased than it should. Because it’s pure Madame Mayor and it’s familiar; she clings to it like a lifeline. 

“I won’t remember even if you tell me.”

“When I tell you, you will remember it.”

She scoffs, “I’ll remember when you can hold your ale.”

Regina stares at her drinking with both disdain and horror. “I do not understand how you could possibly stomach that, how anyone could stomach that.”

“It’s an acquired taste.”

Regina makes a face but there’s still a light in her eyes when she looks at Emma, like Emma’s the first interesting thing in years. It makes her slightly uncomfortable at the way Regina stares at her star-struck and she contemplates just leaving the bench. But then someone walks by clanging a bell yelling ‘curfew’ and Regina immediately stands up in a panic, the light dimming in her eyes.

“Oh no,” Regina says in a breath, “I have to return!” She looks at Emma with consternation before pleading, “May I see you again?”

Emma gulps, remembering her plan to keep her distance and not knowing what to answer. Does this story advance if she never sees Regina? It’s an age old question like Schrödinger's cat or the tree in a forest thing: if she never sees it, will the events happen without her input?

She must take too long to think because Regina shakes her head. “I will be back tomorrow night,” she lets out in a rush, “I hope to see you again, Saviour.” And she _ can’t_, those words cut at her heart, but before she could even protest Regina’s already running out of the tavern like she’s being chased.

She watches helplessly as the door swings closed behind the girl as she leaves.

“That’s a wily one.” She startles and turns, seeing Ruby standing beside her. “Be careful, Swan.” The barmaid leaves before she can get any clarification.

* * *

The next day, she leaves the tavern and it’s light out thankfully. It’s _ early _ morning, but everyone’s out and bustling about, which makes sense if they all have a curfew when it turns dark. She spots a market and is immediately drawn to all the trinkets. She’s not normally a _ trinket _ type of person, but the urge to go and examine everything pushes her to stumble through all the stalls.

At her fifth or sixth stall—she honestly wasn’t paying any attention—she hears clamouring from around her. Looking up, she sees soldiers heading down the narrow street of the marketplace. Seeing everyone else huddle off to the side, she follows, scoffing at the pretentiousness.

She spots an old man sitting on a well-dressed horse; he’s white-haired and balding at the top, with a crown sitting prettily on his head, and he’s also wearing fur-lined clothes to protect him from the chill. He smiles and waves at everyone as he passes through and the people around her cheer.

That’s when she sees a young familiar girl forgotten in the back and she nearly chokes.

It’s Regina, trying to smile as much as she can despite the situation she’s in. Emma hates it, hates that smile that’s part nervousness, part fake, and part trying to please. She likes Regina’s genuine smiles, likes when her eyes crinkle a little when her lips pull up.

The whole entourage sparkles brighter and cleaner than all the other people in the village. She understands the underlying reason for it, understands how unfair a monarchy can be because why else would she be forced to learn history if not to learn the mistakes of the past? These people don’t know any better however; they view the old man as a far more righteous person than he actually is, and that’s how it will be written in history.

She sees that Regina is looking down, and she doesn’t know if she wants the girl to look up and see her or if she wants to hide from sight. She misses her chance when Regina looks up before she could decide and they lock eyes, Regina’s widening with horror at the realization.

There’s a reason why Regina didn’t disclose where she ran off to in the night or why she was there, but Emma knows enough about Regina’s history to figure out the need for escape. The brunette has always been locked in a cage in one form or another, so running off to a nondescript tavern must be some concession.

Before she could even think about it, she shrugs and waves awkwardly, Regina staring at her like she’s insane but a more genuine smile appears on her face. Emma thinks she’s done her job when she sees the quirk of red lips, so she turns and slips away into the crowd.

She’s never really been an outdoorsy, forest type of person, but here, out in the woods was the only place she could find that didn’t have crowds of people. She must be in Snow White’s kingdom or whatever, before Regina became the Evil Queen but after she was married to the king. She’s still confused, wondering what in the world is going on though, is this a curse? Is this reality? What is actually happening?

Then she feels a presence behind and she spins, seeing a blazer-wearing Madame Mayor, looking wholly out of place in the forest, but the sight of her makes her feel like she’s back at home.

“Regina,” she breathes out and the other woman wrings her wrists and gives her a sad smile. “I missed you.”

_“Oh, Emma.”_ Regina looks even sadder at that and takes a few steps forward, reaching out as if she’s going to stroke Emma’s cheek but stops herself. _“I’m-“_

“Well, well, _ this _ is certainly interesting, interesting indeed.” She hears a giggle beside her and she turns, seeing Gold looking the same as the time she accidentally went into a time portal and ended up in the Enchanted Forest. His scaley skin sparkles under the limited sunlight and his toothy smile is unsettling.

“Gold,” she says with a threatening tone as she steps in front of Regina.

He giggles again. “A Regina here, a Regina there, how curious, how curious!” He does a little jig and a little light show and she frowns.

“Wait, you can see her?”

“You, her, you, who can say who,” he rambles, “the question is, do _ you _ see her?”

“What?” she blurts out, not understanding what in the world he’s talking about, “Look, Gold, if you know what’s going on can’t you just-“ And she makes a gesture she’s seen him do often whenever he’s using magic.

“Who, me?” He lets out a deranged laughter that makes her step back a bit. “I don’t have any power, I don’t have any magic, now why could that be?”

“But you did magic, I just saw you.”

He raises his hand and lights fly out of his fingertips. “But am I really using magic? Or is this all in your head? Questions, questions.” His answers only give her more questions and her head hurts when she starts thinking about the possibility that none of what she’s seeing is real. That’s not possible, she can hear, smell, see, and touch everything around her, that’s way too elaborate for some nightmare. A buzz starts up from a dark crevice in her mind again and she groans from the throbbing in her head.

_ “Emma.” _ She swivels around, her eyes blinking from the sudden movement, and sees that Regina’s still there, thankfully, though a little faded. She doesn’t like that Gold intruded on their time together.

“If he can see you, that must mean you’re real, right?” She meant to say that with a little more confidence but in the end she couldn’t help the hopeful tone in her voice.

Regina doesn’t answer though. _ “Don’t listen to him,” _ she demands instead and one of her eyes involuntarily closes when a sharp noise erupts in her mind.

“On the contrary, I should be the _ only _ person you should listen to, Miss Swan,” Gold says in a sing-song voice. He’s gotten much closer now and she’s seeing white spots in her vision as Gold and Regina’s voice war in her head.

_ “Don’t trust him.” _

“Don’t trust _ her_.”

**“Don’t trust-“**

* * *

She rapidly blinks her eyes, finding herself lying in a bed, but unable to see anything. She groans when she gets up, dull thudding against her skull. She turns her head to look out the window. The skies are filled with dark blue; apparently it’s night already. How long was she sleeping for?

She scrambles around in the dark and touches a table beside the bed; tapping around she finds a candle, two stones with flat surfaces, and something leather. Considering where she is, it’s probably flint, and she smacks them together not knowing what she’s doing but manages to create a spark. She does it a few more times near the candle and cries out in success when it catches fire.

She’s doing alright, she’s totally got this fairy tale forest business.

Beside the candle is her journal and she tries to remember if she was carrying it or not. Her memory’s kinda blank though, so she shrugs and flips it open, reading the last entry she made about Regina and Henry.

She looks around, flipping blankets, opening drawers, until she finally finds some ink and a quill. She dips the end of the feather into the inkwell and scratches at the pages with it, and she’s able to write a few words before the ink runs out. Apparently she has to dip it with more ink every once in a while. She can write with this though, it’s not too difficult, just more tedious than with a modern pen.

She taps at the blank page a few times, wondering what she should write. Thinking back on it, she’s not really sure why Regina gave this to her as a gift; it’s a really weird gift for her, that’s for sure. She would’ve been happy with just food. But at this point, it’s sorta the only thing she remembers of her wife, the only physical thing anyway, and it’s also the last promise she made to her.

_ Dear… Regina, _

She doesn’t feel like addressing the journal anymore; the past few times it’s felt like she was addressing Regina anyway.

_ I’ve faced some horrors in my fair share of life, I’m sure you have too, probably more. But I don’t think I’ve really dreamt or imagined killing anyone. I don’t think I’ve been faced with the decision to kill anyone either. And sometimes, when I think about the world you lived in, how death sentences and hanging are pretty common, I see how our differences shape us. _

_ You changed, from the time you would order knights to kill, to someone that understands other people’s pain now, it’s amazing. I think if I killed someone, I would change, or I’d have to change, and I wonder if you would kill someone now if someone threatened the people you love. _

_ I don’t think I can. _

_ Yours truly, Emma _

She snaps the journal closed and stands up, about to stuff it in her back pocket so she doesn’t lose it, but realized she’s not wearing her jeans. How did she not notice that? There’s a place to store things in her cloak though—an oversized pocket that looks more like someone just sewed it on since they had extra cloth—so she puts it in there instead.

She hears sounds coming from downstairs, and when she pushes the door open, she can hear just how loud the ruckus is. Curious, she heads down and is surprised to see all the men standing in a ring and cheering at something in the middle. She pushes past some burly men and some dwarves and her eyebrows shoot upward when she finally sees what they’re all cheering at.

Regina’s in the middle. Young, innocent, can-barely-stomach-beer Regina is chugging down ale like it’s her last drink and everyone around her is encouraging it.

“’isa Saviour!” the girl screams when she catches sight of Emma. She winces slightly at being caught so quickly. “Come here!” Regina pulls her over to the middle of the ring and shoves a glass of beer at her. “Drink, drik, t’day’sa day fer drinkin!”

“God, you’re so drunk,” she says out loud without meaning to but Regina just grins wildly at her, dark brown eyes highly unfocused. She manages to catch the tankard when it’s just thrown at her and she drinks it all down under slightly hazy but still watchful eyes.

A round of cheers go off when she finishes off the drink, and she sets the cup down only to see Regina go for one herself. “Whoa, hey, okay.” She pulls the girl back by the waist and then promptly lets go when she remembers that they don’t know each other that well. “I think you’ve had enough for the night.”

Obviously, Regina doesn’t like being told what to do because she lashes a hand out. “No! Lemme- I needta drinkk n be an adult! So you,” Regina slurs out as she pokes at Emma, “don leeave me.”

“I’m not going to leave you.” She frowns at the brunette in front of her, then she looks around and sees that they’re still in the middle of a crowd. The men have lost interest already and they’re all drinking on their own now, but they’re still rowdy and partying it up so having a conversation here isn’t a good idea. Having a conversation with a drunk teen _ also _ isn’t a good idea. So she reaches out and pulls Regina lightly on the hand, but the girl stumbles forward, making Emma catch her in her arms.

“Saviour, _ pleasedon’tleaveme_.” Regina then sobs into her arms and she stands there looking around for someone to help her. She really doesn’t do well with emotions, much less people crying, and she can count a handful of times where Regina cried in front of her. She can be moral support, but emotional support was, weirdly enough, more Henry’s thing. She catches sight of Ruby but the barmaid just shakes her head and gives her a ‘no way, you’re on your own’ look. So she sighs, and lifts Regina up into her arms.

“Up you go,” she mumbles while Regina yelps and clutches at her tightly. “Yup, hold on tight.” She’s not sure if this was a good idea, but she couldn’t just abandon the girl, for more obvious reasons now, so she takes her into her room, hoping maybe lying down will sober her up. Regina’s light in her arms, and she’s _ tiny_. She’s always been tiny, even her wife was tiny enough to pick up, but there’s a certain lightness to this younger version of Regina that makes her uncomfortable.

Wasn’t she supposed to be royalty? She’s not skin and bones, but she’s also not exactly eating enough either.

It wasn’t that difficult, in the end, to get Regina in her bed, she scoffs inwardly, and this could have been any of those men downstairs if she didn’t get there in time. Regina had already dozed off in her arms by the time she set her down on the bed and Emma strokes the girl’s hair for a moment. It’s long and curly and she doesn’t understand how someone living in the medieval ages could have her hair so soft. The girl also looks adorable sleeping without a care in the world, and Emma stands there, not knowing what she should do to pass the time.

There’s a wooden chair and a table in the corner of the room, and she goes to sit there instead of on the bed. As much as she thinks she knows the Regina here, they’re still technically strangers, and being that close could be considered creepy. Actually, in the quiet of the room, she’s starting to feel a little unsettled. She was really supposed to stay away, but it’s so difficult with this Regina because so much has probably happened to her already.

If Regina is married to the King, Daniel must have already died.

The brunette on her bed groans and mumbles about the cold, and Emma chuckles softly. She stands up and takes her cloak off, draping it over the girl before going back to her chair. It’s oddly comfortable when she sits back down, like when you just happen to settle in the right position and your whole body just relaxes; she’s feeling that now. A sudden drowsiness overcomes her and with all that’s happened, she can’t remember the last time she peacefully slept.

Her eyes slide closed before she could think too hard about what she did in her day.

* * *

Before she even opens her eyes, she can feel a presence. It doesn’t feel menacing, but it’s still unnerving. She opens her eyes one at a time and sees brown eyes staring right at her, and she startles back.

“Sorry!” Regina leans away to give her some room. Emma looks around, trying to remember where she is, and takes a deep breath when everything in the room screams _ Enchanted Forest_. Right, there’s all this, she was kinda hoping for it all to be a dream if she’s being honest.

“Oh, here.” The girl shoves a glass bowl into her hands and she looks at it skeptically. “I received this from the nice lady that owns this place.” _ It’s probably Ruby_, Emma thinks wryly, before she takes a huge mouthful and then chokes on it because, for some reason, she was expecting water. “Are you well?” Regina looks at her with concern and she waves it off.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just wasn’t expecting to drink beer. Is there no water?”

Regina frowns. “Water is very dangerous to drink. Everyone either drinks wine or ale or they expect to die before the next sunrise.”

Yikes, she forgot how much the old ages sucked. “Right, no, this is good, thanks.” She takes a more tentative sip now and Regina just stares at her while she does it. “Um, how long was I out? Also, how are you feeling?”

“Barely a candle mark, and I do feel much better, thank you,” Regina says with a smile but it gets dour quick. “I should return to the castle soon before the guards find that I am missing from my quarters.”

The brunette stands up straight and turns to leave, but stands hesitant at the door. “May I see you again, Saviour?”

“Only if you stop calling me ‘Saviour’,” she sighs out, already resigned to her fate at this point. “I swear it’s worse than when you called me _ ‘Mayor’, _” she mutters under her breath.

“Then what shall I call you then? You have yet to give me your name, _ Saviour. _” There’s a glint of mischief in Regina’s eyes when she says that and it almost makes Emma want to laugh. Cheeky thing.

She thinks about it though, and she doesn’t really want to give her name. Names feel close and imagining this Regina calling her by her name when this Regina is already so infatuated with her feels more intimate than sleeping in the same bed. She shrugs. “I don’t know, just- just call me ‘Nobody’ or something,” she decides in the end.

Regina looks at her exasperated. “I cannot _ possibly _ call you that-“

“You can, because it’s true and because you don’t know any other name.”

Regina turns to face her now, and Emma stands so she can look down at the girl instead. There’s a momentary stand-off as they stare at each other, both unwilling to back down, until Regina just huffs. “Fine then, if you insist on being called ‘Nobody’, then I am _ ‘Invisible’ _.”

“But you’re not invisible,” Emma points out with a frown, “and I already know your name.”

“How?” Regina crosses her arms in defiance. “I have never introduced myself.”

_ Oops _, thinking back on it, that’s actually true. She’s supposed to have never known anything about the girl in front of her, but here she is, knowing Regina’s full history. “You’re royalty, Regina, it’s hard not to know your name,” she bluffs. And it works because Regina just deflates.

“I do not _ want _ to be royalty, I do not want to be _ Regina_.” The brunette shakes her head in dismay. “This was as I feared, I did not want you to know who I was because you would no longer see me, you would see the Queen. People never see _ me _ ; in a crowd I am just the King’s wife and even then that title is overshadowed by the late Queen. No one was looking at me, truly _ at me _, in the march through the village today.”

Emma softens when she hears the loneliness in Regina’s voice and she steps closer involuntarily. “I saw you,” she whispers.

Regina looks at her, her eyes searching. “You did, didn’t you.”

And her plans to stay away are officially thrown out the window, never to be seen again, when Regina leans in and presses a kiss against her cheek. “Until we meet again, _ Somebody_.”

* * *

The next morning her eyes shoot open, and she’s not quite sure what woke her up until she groggily looks up and she’s staring right at that reason.

Hanging right above her from the ceiling is Regina, a noose around her neck and with cold, dead eyes. She scrambles out of the bed, tangling her legs in the blankets and falling off the side of it with a heavy thud. She crawls on her arms to move away, not caring that she’s probably bruised in a lot of places.

She turns to face up, not liking the feeling of showing her back and being vulnerable but when she looks at the ceiling again, Regina’s not there.

_ Fuck_, she thinks and her head falls and hits the floor underneath her; can she get a moment’s rest for _ one _ second for once in her goddamn life? Apparently not, if the fact that she’s currently sprawled across the floor is any indication. And she can’t tell if that hallucination was some freaky premonition or foresight or whatever, but it’s eerie that she’s seeing death again now that she’s gotten close to this young Regina.

It’s too late for her now however, and she groans at the thought; there’s no way she can just cut Regina out. It would probably do more harm than good at this point.

She’s losing it though. She laughs out loud, feeling the air exit out her diaphragm. She can’t tell the difference between reality and hallucination anymore and it’s all blending together like she’s in Wonderland. In the end, she honestly has no idea if this is all a curse or not. Somehow she’s been treating her current situation as if she’s been thrown into the past because that’s how she relates to it when she’s in the Enchanted Forest. Seeing a younger version of Regina also doesn’t help disassociating this place with time travel.

This whole thing is just one big nightmare. But wouldn’t that be nice though, for her to be able to wake up and be rid of all this, and like most dreams, she wouldn’t even remember this when she wakes up. She’d open her eyes and see her wife right beside her in her bed, then she’d be forced up again to make breakfast but it would all be right again, things would make sense.

God, that sounds nice.

She’s tired, both mentally and physically, and she just lays there, pulling the blanket tangled in her legs up so it’s covering her body, before just sleeping there on the hardwood floor. She doesn’t know what time it is, but the sun illuminates the room well enough and she can hear some murmur of activity downstairs through the floor; the noise somehow calms her down. Makes her feel a little less alone. Because despite all that has happened, all the Reginas she’s met and befriended—more or less—she’s still on this journey by herself, unable to really confide in anyone and letting it all fester inside her mind.

She shivers, not from the cold, but from the loneliness, and exhaustion hits her hard. Her eyelids fall and she’s back in the dark again.

* * *

She wakes up not long after, heading down just to be in the company of people. There’s no one downstairs in the tavern area at this time however, so that’s depressing. But Ruby’s there, wiping down dirty tables with an already dirty rag.

The barmaid must hear her coming down the squeaky staircase because she turns to greet her as soon as she hits the ground floor. Emma wonders if maybe Ruby is a werewolf here too. She just assumed the brunette is because she can’t help but see everything as some ‘pre-curse’ timeline, but she doesn’t see Ruby with a red cape. Her friend told her once that she needed to wear it all the time because she couldn’t control the wolf otherwise, so seeing this Ruby right now without wearing any red is a little jarring.

“I noticed the young miss left early yesterday,” Ruby says slyly and Emma glares at her. “She didn’t spend the night?”

“What? No, she’s like, 18 or something, I’m not going to sleep with an 18 year old.”

Ruby raises an eyebrow before shrugging and continuing her wipe down. “18 is plenty adult, Swan.” But doesn’t say anything more about that when she looks at the grimace on Emma’s face.

She leaves then, not wanting to talk anymore about sleeping with this Regina. She’s never even thought about it, maybe even inadvertently treated Regina more like a kid or a daughter than her wife, so the thought feels kinda gross to her. It’s even grosser when you think about how the King is okay with it.

The village is a little less busy than it was the last time she walked around, and she wonders if it’s because there aren’t any royals marching through it. She can see a castle over by the horizon if she squints and wonders how Regina manages to sneak out every night after walking such a long distance, then walking by herself at night back.

The market doesn’t appear to be open either, no open stalls with people yelling about their wares, but there are signs that lead her to believe that they’re shops. She spots one with just a shape of a sword etched into the wooden sign and decides to look around.

The first thing she sees is the way the inside of the shop pretty much _ glitters _ from the assortment of weapons hanging on the walls. There’s your classic sword and knives, but then there’s also axes and spears; yeah, as she suspected, it’s a weapon shop.

“Are you looking for any particular weapon, miss?” The shop owner, she assumes, comes around the corner and looks her up and down like he’s sizing her up. “Or for a husband perhaps?”

She tries, but doesn’t do a good job at disguising her disgust at the assumption. “No, no husband,” _ just a wife, _ she thinks as she waves her right arm, “and I’m not really a weapons person, but my dad tried to teach me how to wield a sword.”

The surprise from the shop keep was palpable when she says this and she rolls her eyes. Maybe coming in here was a bad idea. She’s about to leave when the owner panics. “Wait, wait, miss, my apologies, we don’t get a lot of women coming in here you see. We have a fine selection of swords over here if you would like to see?” He gestures to the rack of swords that he has positioned near the center of the room.

She shakes her head. “Nah, I wouldn’t know what to do with it anyway.” And she leaves the shop wondering what she was trying to accomplish. She somehow felt compelled to go in there, but she doesn’t feel it anymore, so she just shrugs it off. And she goes to leave but feels a familiar presence beside her, and she knows who it is without even having to turn. “Regina.”

_ “Emma.” _The pleading in her wife’s voice makes her face Regina and she sees the worried look.

“What is it?”

Her wife goes to reach out for her but stops before they touch. _ “Please, don’t involve yourself anymore.” _

She draws back, confused. “Involved in what? I’m not doing anything.” Regina just gives her a look, and she frowns. “You? You don’t want me to be near the younger version of you?”

_ “Please,” _ her wife says right before she fades away and she stands there, conflicted.

She doesn’t know what she should do with what her wife told her, so she goes to search for the only person that can help her. The next place she goes to is the forest and this time, she has an actual reason for coming here. She’s hoping that if she wanders around, Gold will see her again and she can ask some questions, ask what her wife could possibly mean. 

But it proves useless when after walking around for an hour or so—she’s not sure how long she’s been out here—there’s no sight of scaley imps anywhere so she yells in frustration. “You always appear when you’re least needed!” she yells at the trees but nothing moves, nothing happens, and still no Gold. Annoyed, she leaves.

When she exits out of the forest, she can see the sky again without the foliage blocking her view, and it’s nighttime already.

Right before her eyes, she watches as the sun goes down and the houses all around her light their candles one by one. She slowly makes her way to the tavern, wondering if Regina’s already there and waiting for her. The tavern is probably the only place in the village that’s still bustling with energy even after the sun goes down, and she’s already seeing a bunch of men bumbling their way over to the building.

To her surprise, she can already see the back of young Regina’s head, and she stands there wondering if she should go. She watches fondly as the girl smiles and talks to Ruby and before she knows it, her feet are shuffling forward. She stealthily walks up behind the brunette and right when Ruby leaves, she claps both her hands on Regina’s shoulders.

“Hey, _ Visible_.”

The girl squeaks out in surprise, her body jumping underneath her hands. “_You-“ _ Regina says threateningly when she spins around and sees Emma, “I cannot believe you!” The girl smacks her on the arm and she can’t help but laugh even while fending off Regina’s harmless attacks.

“And here I thought I even missed you!” Regina pouts and she wants to hug her. She’s grown used to physical affection with Regina, something the past her would never be able to do, but it’s a habit she’s unable to indulge in here, an intimacy that would cross all the lines she’s drawn on the ground.

“I’m sorry,” she says with a placating smile, “if it makes you feel any better, I missed you too.” The pout gets more exaggerated at that, but she can see the start of a smile in the corner of Regina’s lips.

“I do feel slightly better.” Regina pulls her down to sit next to her right as Ruby comes by with a tankard of ale. “I did go to your room to see you, but you were not there.” She then takes a tentative sip from the drink and only winces a little. “I believe I am getting more accustomed to the taste,” she says with a small hint of disgust.

“I thought you had enough to drink from last time.” Then she remembers what Regina said the last time she got black out drunk. “I won’t leave you if you can’t drink beer, you know,” she says softly to the girl, and Regina bites her lip as she stares at her drink.

“I suppose you are right, but…” the young girl looks around at all the rowdy men, “I cannot help but feel that we are so different we might as well be from separate realms.”

_ You have no idea _, she almost blurts but opts to move the drink away from the brunette instead. “We can just talk, we don’t have to drink like everyone else.” She almost regrets saying that when Regina looks at her in awe like she’s never had anyone listen to what she wanted. It makes her feel pretty awful, knowing that Regina has never had much choice in anything, and attempting to fit in is just another choice of hers being taken away.

“Tell me what you did today instead.” And brown eyes go alight in happiness as Regina talks about her horse and the lake she found while horse riding. She’s so animated when she talks about the things she loves and Emma can’t help but watch how the candle light bounces and reflects off of wide eyes and she stares deep into them, hypnotized.

The light dims a little, and Regina mentions feeling ignored and about how the guards don’t listen to her even though she’s supposed to be queen, and she reaches over and grabs her hand by habit. She pulls back when she notices what she did but Regina turns her hand, palm facing up, and immediately threads their fingers together so she can’t leave. She doesn’t plan on it though, not anymore when she sees the smile at just their hands held together.

Time passes and she talks about herself a bit, taking care not to mention her wife and her son or anything modern because that would be hard to explain. But she mentions that she once parked her “carriage” in a clearing, climbed on top of it and stared at the stars. Regina nods furiously as if she can relate and Emma can’t imagine the amount of times Regina must have looked up at the sky and pleaded for her life to be different.

It gets dark—well, _ darker_—and when they hear the curfew bell Regina stands up with an apologetic expression on her face. “Thank you for staying with me.” Regina turns to leave, but Emma recalls the distance it takes to get back to the castle and stands up as well.

“Wait, I’m coming with you.”

And for a split second, she can see Madame Mayor in this younger Regina when she raises an eyebrow at her, but she tries to shrug off the questioning look. “And yet you insist on not being a _ saviour _.”

“Anybody would do this for you,” she growls, and Regina just shakes her head and smiles sadly. 

* * *

“You do this every night?” she pants out quietly as they climb over the castle walls. As she suspected, it’s pitch black and it’s difficult to see even her own hand, but Regina appears to be accustomed to it and navigates through the forest to get back without too much issue. She’s glad the girl can take care of herself and she shouldn’t have assumed otherwise.

“My father helps me escape sometimes,” Regina whispers back, and Emma can hear the fondness in her voice at the mention of her dad.

She’s lead to a secret pathway and they both crawl through until they end up in one of the hallways in the castle. It’s a long winding hallway lined with a red carpet and paintings hanging on the walls. There’s not a single soul in sight save for the row of empty suits of armour on either side of the hall. She breathes a sigh of relief when she can’t hear anyone.

“The Queen’s quarters are down that way.” Regina points and she nods, but the brunette looks at her funnily. “_Somebody, _” Regina calls her by the ridiculous name with a laugh, “you have to let go of me or I’ll never get to sleep.”

She looks down and sees that they’re still holding hands and her cheeks warm. “Sorry,” she mumbles, then reluctantly lets go. She doesn’t like the sight of Regina turning away and leaving her and _ dammit _ she’s already well in over her head and completely attached to this version of Regina as well. There’s no helping her, is there?

“Good night then.”

She smiles at the girl, at the way she lingers, half leaving but with her body turned towards Emma. “Night, _ Visible_.” That earns her a small laugh and Emma's smile grows wider.

She stays and watches as Regina heads to her bedroom and opens it as slowly and quietly as she can, only to stumble back when it’s fully open.

“Regina.” The king steps out of the room and steps toward Regina who looks like she’s seen a ghost. “I was looking for my _ wife _ tonight but imagine my surprise when she’s nowhere to be found.” There’s an underlying threat in his tone. Emma’s body moves on its own and she’s in front of Regina in a flash. The king narrows his eyes at her. “Who are _ you? _” he snarls and she bares her teeth back.

“Your worst _ nightmare _ if you so much as _ look _at Regina wrong.” The old man sneers at her words and doesn’t even look mildly afraid, which offends her, and her eyes dart to the side looking for something she can use.

She grins, then twists and unsheathes a sword from one of the suits of armour and brandishes it against him.

“You would _ dare _ threaten a King?”

“Please, do not do this,” she hears Regina urging her to stop, “just run away, forget about me.”

She snorts out, “And leave you to this old guy? No way”, while still facing the king, watching as his face turns red in anger and she wonders how this night turned so horribly wrong.

“Guards!” he yells, “Kill this impudent _ peasant _!” She hears the clunk of metal and soon knights are coming from both sides of the hallway, completely surrounding them. She tries to focus on using her magic but it fizzles inside of her, dying quickly before even reaching her hands and she curses under her breath.

“Wait!” Regina yells while pushing her to the side, “Punish me, just please do not kill her!”

And when the king looks like he’s considering that option she growls and steps forward-

_ This is what he gets for claiming what’s hers. Regina is hers and hers only. _

_ Mine. _

_ “Emma! Stop!” _

She blinks and looks down right at the moment she runs her sword’s blade clean across the king’s neck. Blood spurting from the gash until the man dies from choking on his own blood, the sound sickening as she just stands there, watching him die. Glancing around she sees that all the knights are dead as well. A pile of corpses strewn about the hall. _ Did she do that? _ She raises her sword hand and sees blood coating it, and she drops the sword in horror.

“What- what did I do?” She spins and she can’t read the look Regina’s giving her.

“It doesn’t matter,” Regina says with a shake of her head and she reaches out and grabs her shaking hands, pulling her insistently back to the secret pathway, “you have to leave, quickly before more guards come and kill you.”

She’s shoved to the wall where the pathway is hidden and she twists her body. “Wait, wait, what about you?”

“That’s no matter,” Regina repeats and this time Emma shakes her head.

“It matters to me!” she yells, thinking about the other Reginas she’s let down, how much she doesn’t want to see it happen again, and she coughs, lowering her voice, “What do you want to do? Do you want to leave?”

Regina looks at her with conflicted eyes. “If I depart with you, those guards will chase us until the ends of the realm.”

“_Goddammit, _ I don’t care! This is about you, so I’ll ask again, do you want to leave?”

Brown eyes water as Regina whispers, “Leaving is something I have dreamt about even before I was forced into this marriage.”

“Okay,” she says with conviction, with hopefully enough confidence to supply them both, “okay. Then let’s go.”

They manage to make their way to the stables without anyone spotting them, but they know they’re found out when the castle goes aglow with light and they can hear yelling around them.

“They found the King,” Regina whispers, and she nods. They quickly enter the stables, running along the inside to look in each stall until they find Regina’s horse, Rocinante. Emma doesn’t know what the horse looks like, so she just runs to the end of the stable looking for things to grab, and finds a small nook with a table, some parchment and a hanging lantern with a candle burning brightly inside. It’s almost as if someone was just here.

She steps closer, rifling through the papers, the words all jumbled up and she can’t read them properly:

_ undtsreand bdale _

_ eniwtne enigrees _

_ saepk inctatnaion _

A buzzing starts up again in her mind and the harder she stares at the parchment, the words bouncing around on the page, the louder the buzzing gets.

“We have to leave,” Regina urges from behind her and it breaks her out of her trance. She spins and Regina pulls her by the hand until they’re in front of a stall with a hulking brown horse, a stripe of white on his face the only distinct trait that she can see. It’s only when Regina opens the stall door and leads out Rocinante, easily hopping on his back without breaking a sweat, that Emma realizes she’s never ridden a horse before.

Regina sees her hesitate and reaches out, ready to pull her up on the horse. “Take my hand,” she says, and Emma almost lashes out with a sarcastic comment out of fear.

She hears metal clanking around them and knows the guards have gotten close, and she looks up at the hand again. “Hurry,” Regina says with even more urgency, “I will not let you fall.” 

Taking a deep breath, she takes Regina’s hand and with a flurry of motion, she’s suddenly on top of a huge animal. _ Shit_, it’s high. She wraps her arms tightly around Regina’s waist and the girl grunts in pain; she quickly loosens her grip and apologizes. Then they’re speeding off, and she can’t help but squeeze the thin waist again, the guards they’re running past nothing but a dark blur. They shout in alarm and when they get closer to the castle gates, something fast whizzes by her face.

“_Shit_, they’re shooting at us.”

“Lean forward and down,” Regina hisses, and both try to make themselves smaller on the running horse. Rocinante makes a disgruntled sound but keeps going forward and they eventually get past the gates.

“We’re out!” she cheers, but too soon as another arrow whizzes by and scrapes Regina’s arm. The girl hisses out in pain and she leans down to look at it. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I will be fine.” They’re safer in the forest under the cover of trees, but it’s difficult to navigate and she wonders how they haven’t hit a tree yet. They do have to slow to a stop, the terrain and lack of sight making it hard to move forward.

They sit there in silence for a moment, perking their ears for any pursuing guards and they take a deep breath when they don’t hear anything. “Did we lose them?”

“For now.” She can hear the tremble in Regina’s voice and she hugs the girl from behind. It’s the only thing she can do when she just uprooted her from everything Regina's known. Regina hisses when she accidentally touches her arm and Emma nearly falls in her attempt to back away.

She can’t see the wound under the lack of light but she knows they're in no condition to keep riding off in the dark. “We need to find a place to stay.”

“We cannot go back to the village, that will be the first place they look.”

Emma makes a face that’s unseen by the girl sitting in front of her because Regina’s right, the only thing they can do right now is to wander until they find a place. They’re not sure which direction they’re facing right now, having just ran out haphazardly, but she suggests that they just go forward, eventually they’ll hit something.

And they do, because after a few hours they bump into an awfully convenient abandoned hut. They’re too tired to question it and slide off of Rocinante weary and ready to collapse. There’s a bucket filled with rain water left outside so they set it at a height Rocinante can drink before tying him up near patches of grass and heading inside.

If it’s pitch black outside, then the inside of the hut might as well be a black hole; the absence of light makes it impossible to see anything and they both fumble around for flint and candles. They’re not all that lucky; they presume it’s somewhere but there’s too much to cover inside the building to search blindly. 

They find a bed though, just one. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Emma can’t see it, but she can hear the eye roll and she has just enough energy to wheeze out a laugh before they both fall onto the bed and pass out from exhaustion.

* * *

_ “You!” She roars at the man in front of her, unable to reach forward and throttle him because of the restraints. “You betrayed me!” _

_ “I’m sorry, this is the only way.” _

_ “You said you could cure me!” she screams. _

_ He looks at her sadly, raising the sword slowly. “There is no cure.” _

* * *

She doesn’t realize she’s screaming until Regina’s beside her, rubbing circles on her back and humming a tuneless song. Her eyes slowly refocus and she remembers that they’re in a hut in the middle of the forest. She leans away slightly, looking at the young Regina who still has sleep mussed hair and bleary eyes. “Sorry for waking you.” A heat of shame spreads across her face, but Regina just shakes her head.

“I get night terrors as well.” She smiles as she watches Regina yawn and rub sleepily at her eyes.

“Not a morning person?” she teases despite knowing the answer.

Regina pouts. “I really do not understand how people can be so alert as soon as the sun rises. Mother would punish me whenever I rise _ after _ our roosters have and it’s _ absurd_.”

She grins, not at the way Regina casually talks about punishment, but the way she yawns in the middle of talking and how her eyes have already drift closed. She uses both hands and gently guides her to lie down, receiving absolutely no resistance, and soon Regina’s back asleep again. She has to hold in her sudden bark of laughter because her wife is exactly the same way. If this is just a younger version of Regina then she knows Regina will never grow out of it, and the thought of that endears her.

She’s up now however, so she clambers out of bed, checking on their horse and making sure he’s eaten. She does find a storage room with bales of hay and pokes at them with a pitchfork so he can actually eat from them, and he neighs happily. The storeroom unfortunately doesn’t have anything for humans to eat, so she has to wander off and gather food.

When she comes back, there’s an armful of apples she grabbed from a nearby apple tree, and she hopes this version of Regina likes the fruit just as much as her wife does.

She hears a cry, however, from inside the hut as she gets closer, and she drops everything and rushes in. Regina’s screaming from the bed and holding her arm in agony.

“Regina! Regina! What is it?!” She kneels on the bed near her but is afraid to touch her, not wanting to accidentally cause more pain.

“I- I-” Regina screams again, looking straight at her with pupils blown wide.

She curses and gently tilts Regina onto her side so she can look at the wound from last night. It’s gross and yellow, congealed in pus with black veins surrounding it. That doesn’t look like a normal wound.

“Poison?” she gasps at the possibility and Regina sobs.

“It m-must be n-nightshade.” There’s a layer of sweat on the girl’s forehead and she rushes off to find a cloth to wet with water. She practically tears the hut apart for supplies before rushing back and dabbing at Regina’s head.

“Do you know the cure?” Regina stares at her sadly then shakes her head and her heart shatters.

“No- No, I can’t- Not another one-” This was her fault, she’s the cause of this, why couldn’t she just leave Regina alone! Her wife- She should have listened to her wife when she told her to stay away.

Regina yells in agony again and Emma holds her other, non-wounded hand. She feels Regina squeeze tightly as pain courses through her body but Emma wants to be there for her in whatever capacity possible. Soon after, Regina passes out from the pain and she sobs quietly beside her.

“I can’t lose you.” Emma rests her forehead on the girl’s sternum, practically praying to every god out there to give her a miracle and heal Regina.

It doesn’t work.

A few hours later, Regina wakes while screaming and sobbing, begging Emma to end her life but she can’t do it. She holds Regina close against her, stroking long dark hair and trying to soothe her.

It works for a bit, but then Regina passes out once again. She never leaves her side however, because even if she didn’t make her wedding vows with this version of Regina, it’s still ‘in sickness and in health’ for her and she wants to be by Regina’s side no matter what.

“May I… know your name… now?” Regina croaks weakly when she wakes and it’s already night. She tries to smile but can only cry instead.

“It’s Emma, but I want to always be _ Somebody _ to you.”

Regina wheezes out a laugh. “I want to always be _ Visible _ to you as well.” Then her mouth stretches into a frown as she looks at Emma in the eyes. “_Emma, _ I don’t think I will live much longer.”

She has to bite her lip to hold in her scream because it’s just so unfair. She has to stay strong though; she doesn’t want Regina’s last moments to be of her in anger.

“Okay,” she says instead, and she positions them so that she can sit behind Regina, cradling her in her arms and lap. Regina leans back and hums.

“I like this.”

She smiles, tears freely falling now that Regina isn’t looking. “Close your eyes, what’s the one place that makes you happiest?”

Regina leans until the back of her head is against Emma’s chest and Emma can look down and see the serene look on her face. “An open field… horses… running… free…”

“Yeah, that’s good, you’re in a large open grassy field, it’s sunny, the wind’s blowing through the grass, through your hair, you can feel the cool air against your cheek.” She’s shaking and she can hear it in the way her voice cracks, but she forges on. “Rocinante’s there, running around, happy, free. Your dad’s there too, he loves you and he’s so proud of you Regina. You’re free too, you’re happy and free and no one will ever take your choices away again.”

“And… you.”

A short breath of laughter escapes as she tries to mask her sobs of anguish. “And me, of course I’m there too, I’ll be there for you, always.”

Regina’s still smiling as she faces up with her eyes still closed, but she feels it when her limbs go weak, all the strength leaving her and the way Regina’s head just lolls to the side.

She sobs as she rests her head against dark hair. “Be free,” she chokes out and she openly welcomes the flash of white and blinding buzzing noise in her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone I was talking to, who knows me, and knows what I'm like when I write, knew that I grew very attached to Young Regina.
> 
> And the more attached I get to the character, the more tragic of a death I have to give them :D


	5. By your side

‘_Welcome to Storybrooke’ _

The words mock her as she sits there in her car, not quite comprehending the meaning of the words or even comprehending what in the world she’s looking at. But, like waking from a dream, the fog lifts and suddenly she understands.

She’s back in Storybrooke, _ finally_. Did she somehow make it back home?

She doesn’t know how she got here though, doesn’t know what could have triggered her way home. _ The last thing she saw was_… and her heart grieves, because no matter what, she loved that Regina, that young girl with a beautiful heart. The girl that’s been kept in a cage, longing for freedom, longing to be normal and be with others, only for that dream to crumble when _ she _ came in.

Emma, the new big bad wolf in Regina’s story.

She should’ve listened to herself, should’ve kept to her original plan of staying away from Regina. She should’ve known better especially after what happened to the Sheriff. But no, unable to resist herself, she inserted herself into Regina’s routine life and snuffed it out quicker than she could say Enchanted Forest.

So she grieves, sobbing silently in the cramped space with her head leaning against the wheel. She wonders if her wife was like that when she was young: hauntingly pretty, innocent yet robbed of innocence, sweet but quick witted and sassy—she can’t help but imagine that her wife was exactly like that when she was younger and it felt like a part of Regina just died inside of her.

The Sheriff too. There were many aspects that made Emma feel like she was looking at a mirror image of herself, but there were also points where she felt like she was just watching a much more carefree Regina. A Regina without obligations, without expectations, and without family. She was the free version that wasn’t shackled by the responsibility of being Mayor, of being the Evil Queen, of having to repent for the past things she’s done.

But that Regina still longed for someone, they both did, and they both deserved someone much better than Emma.

She looks up at the open road in front of her and wonders what she should tell her wife when she gets home. She’d tell her about her journey and then maybe apologize. She wants to apologize, even if it’s not to the right person; she feels the need to apologize, the guilt eating away at her heart. Regina would probably listen and forgive her, but she’s not looking for forgiveness, unable to accept forgiveness when the people who could grant it are no longer alive. No, she carries them in her soul now, etched them into her heart as she carries them with her, letting them live on inside of her.

_ “Is that enough for you?” _

She turns, startled at the intrusion, and sees her wife phasing in and out as she sits primly on the passenger seat.

“Regina?” She’s confused at why she’s seeing her wife again, especially with Storybrooke, with _ home _ right in front of her.

_ “You don’t--” _ Regina’s ethereal voice sounds muffled and breaks with static, and Emma squints as she tries to focus on her shifting form. _ “--do it--lives--worth--” _

Her wife then disappears in a zap and she can’t make heads or tails out of what Regina was trying to tell her. She feels another presence in her car before she can think about it for too long, and she twists to look at her back seat. 

“It’s you two…” she breathes out when she sees that it’s the sheriff Regina and the young Regina sitting there. They watch her, staring through her eerily before blood starts to trickle down the sheriff’s face and the young girl’s veins start turning black.

“Shit, _ shit_.” She turns and leans against her seat, squeezing her eyes shut as she takes a deep breath and tries to remind herself that she’s probably hallucinating again. She thinks about happy things: having her car back, being able to see her son again, and soon being able to see her wife alive and well.

Her mind then moves to sheriff Regina and the way she grins, the way she bumps Emma’s hip teasingly, the way she’s grown buddy-buddy with a surly Henry, and the faraway look when she talks about her dreams.

Then it’s green fields, an expansive field of grass and scattered trees windswept and bright. She imagines young Regina, giggling and happy on her horse, her laughter ringing in the wind. She remembers being included in this dream so she’s there too, watching as the girl speeds through the sea of green, and she _ misses_.

She opens her eyes and glances at the rearview mirror, finding nothing. She double-checks by turning to look as well, but both Reginas are gone and she _ misses _ and _ yearns_.

God, Archie’s gonna have a field day with her.

Biting on the inside of her cheek so she doesn’t start crying again, she starts up the ignition and presses lightly on the pedal to move across the line. She needs a warm bath; she feels pretty grimy after all that’s happened. She needs to see Henry, she misses the little brat, and he’s probably the only person that’s going to listen to her story and exclaim “cool!” Maybe he’ll write a book about it, she doesn’t know.

She grips her steering wheel tighter.

She needs to see Regina; she just wants a hug at this point.

* * *

Her first clue that something _ might not be right _ is when a mother _ fucking _ hound on _ fire _ zooms by her car. “Toto, I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore,” she mutters to herself as she watches the big flaming dog chase a squirrel up a tree.

She’s run out of theories as to why she’s here or why this is all happening to her now, and she’s not even going to bother to try and figure out why the tree hasn’t suddenly burst into flames from being in contact with the dog. She slowly rolls through in her car, choosing to take it all in stride and ignore the bizarre sight.

She may or may not see a flying horse in the sky when she keeps driving.

Eventually, she hits a fairly intimidating, dark steel wall that blocks her from continuing into town. The wall stretches to as far as she can see, cutting into the forest, and she wonders if it borders completely around the entire town. Two guards step out from their little cubicle room, one on each side of the large gate she’s stopped in front of, and they’re in black suits with a steel helmet on, brandishing halberds at her car. It’s an odd mix of modern and medieval.

“Please exit the vehicle,” they yell while they threateningly raise their spears.

She really doesn’t have time for this, but there’s also nothing she can do about it, so she slowly leaves her car, keeping her hands up in a placating manner. “Whoa, calm down, watch where you point that thing,” she says when a guard enthusiastically aims his weapon at her head.

When she stands up fully, she realizes they’re both pretty short in comparison.

“What do we do now?” one of them hisses to the other; she decides she’s gonna call one Lefty and the other Righty.

“I dunno, this ain’t never happened before!” Righty angrily hisses back, and they argue back and forth long enough for her to get tired of keeping her hands up so she subtly lowers them and leans against her car as she waits.

“Just call _ her_!”

“No way, she’ll _ kill _me!”

“_Ugh_, wimp.” Righty reaches into his pocket and pulls out a smartphone. He stares at it for a moment, his hand shaking slightly, but he takes a sharp inhale and taps at it, quickly bringing it up to his ear only to hit the helmet. “Damn thing,” he mumbles before spearing the ground with his weapon and ripping his helmet off. Righty turns out to be _ Leroy _ and she should have figured that both the guards were dwarves.

There’s a moment where he waits, probably listening to the dial tone, but then he straightens his back and his eyes go wide. “Sorry to bother you ma’am,” he says with a slight tremble in his voice, “but there’s a person at the gate-”

He presses the phone against his chest and gruffly calls out, “Hey, you, what’s your name?”

She raises an eyebrow and considers not answering, but that would just be causing unnecessary trouble. “Swan,” she gives instead, and Leroy narrows his eyes at her but repeats the name to the person on the other side of the phone anyway.

He listens, nodding along even if the person can’t see it until he puts the phone down; presumably the other person hung up. “Let her through,” he gruffs out and Lefty swings his head towards Leroy who just shrugs. “Those were the orders.”

Lefty finally lowers the halberd and Emma marginally relaxes at not having a weapon constantly being pointed at her face. He then runs off back to his little guard cubicle and the gates slowly start to open inward. Leroy picks up his weapon and walks over to her as she gets back into her car. He taps at her window, so she rolls it down. “The Mayor says she wants to see you after you enter.”

“The Mayor wants to see me?” she parrots back.

He grunts and nods. “Yeah, don’t do anything stupid.”

He moves to leave and she slightly panics. “Wait, how do I find her?”

“Just head to the big castle, you can’t miss it!” he yells and she’s suddenly being ushered through the gates by Lefty.

“Fuck,” she mumbles when the gates close behind her and she’s staring at the road in front of her. Nothing much she can do but head to town. She’s a little confused at the concept of a castle _ in _ a town, but she also just saw a flying horse, a flaming dog, and was threatened by two dwarves with spears, so there could be crazier things, she guesses.

She starts driving forward again, going fast down the empty road, and it doesn’t take long before she sees a dark castle loom in the distance.

* * *

She’s not surprised when there’s even more guards in front of the castle. Heading here was not an easy feat; while the castle was easily in sight since it’s built pretty much at the center of the town, the geography appears to have changed to match it, raising the center of town up into a mountain with the castle sitting prettily on top of it. She had to find the road to the castle first, drive past a (luckily) sleeping golem, and drive up the narrow winding road to get to the gates.

So considering the effort it took to get here, she’s not surprised by the guards, but she is surprised at the guard that greets her.

“Dad?” she calls out accidentally, and the guard looks at her curiously. She tries to wave it off. “No, sorry, you just look almost exactly like my dad, my mistake.”

He considers it for a moment, tapping his chin with a gloved hand. “I do have a twin, but my brother died years ago.”

“Oh.” She winces even though her dad-not-dad said it all nonchalantly. “I’m sorry.”

He shrugs. “He was a bit of a jerk, I doubt he would even bother with a daughter too, you know?”

No, she didn’t know, and she wonders how much of this was true to the David she knew. The guard leads her through the large castle gates, walking in an orderly and stoic way, two things she never really associated with her dad. David was always good-natured with a smile that matched his nickname, and he usually walked with a swagger that Mom mentioned was similar to her own. _ You’re both so alike, it’s infuriating at times. _

She watches him now, taking long strides, hurrying them down an excessive hallway. He’s not carrying a helmet or wearing full body armour, but he’s got plates of armour over his shoulders and down his arms. If he bodychecked someone, it’d hurt, and he’d have the full mobility to do so since he’s not weighed down by any extra metal. So far she’s seen a few innovative designs to the armour wearing and she doesn’t know what to make of it.

They finally end up in front of ornate double doors with a mirror adorning them. When they step closer, a face suddenly appears in the mirror, cloudy and green, and she steps back startled.

“Why have you decided to bother our most gracious Mayor, David?” the guy in the mirror says with a bored tone, and it grates on her nerves.

“_She _ asked _ me _ here.” She crosses her arms when the mirror guy shifts his eyes towards her, not bothering to hide his glare.

“_Excuse me, _ how dare you, you _ peasant- _”

“_Sidney. _” 

A voice booms from behind the door, which causes both Sidney and David to recoil. Sidney wavers in his mirror for a moment, shooting her a sneer before the mirror splits perfectly in half and the double doors swing open.

She starts to walk inside but notices that David isn’t following. She turns and looks at him questioningly, and he stares back before realizing why she stopped. “Oh no,” he shakes his head and waves her in, “I can’t go with you beyond this point, sorry. The Mayor only asked for you.”

“This Mayor is starting to sound like a real hardass,” she mutters under her breath, but David manages to hear her and his wide-eyed expression is the last thing she sees before the doors close in her face.

She chuckles as she turns and sees that she’s in a wide, dome-like room. There’s floor-to-ceiling pillars dotting the sides of the room and a red carpet that leads from the door to the middle of the room. Without even taking a step, she can see two thrones sitting in the middle and she gulps, because she can also see who’s sitting there.

“It’s not polite to just stand there and not greet us, _ Swan_.”

_ Her _ voice echoes and bounces off the walls, the rounded ceiling carrying it without her having to even shout. Emma takes a hesitant step forward and then takes another, then another, until she’s walking as calmly as she can to the center of the room. The figures in the two thrones slowly getting bigger, looming over her from their lofty pedestal.

“Well, well.”

She has to swallow the two names that nearly erupted out of her mouth. _ Henry _ and _ Regina_, her family. Only Henry wears a bored expression as he sits there clad in gold armour, and Regina is in her full Evil Queen outfit—because of course the Evil Queen shows up when she least expects it, and doesn’t when she thought she’d see her in the Enchanted Forest. She’s all tall hair and tight black corsets and it’s just as intimidating to see as when she first fell into a time portal all those years ago.

Regina looks at her with intrigue, and she doesn’t know if it’s a good thing to have the attention of the Evil Queen.

“Step closer, _ Swan_.” Regina waves her hand and steps appear in front of her, leading her up the platform and closer to the thrones. She does what she’s told—because what else can she do—and she stops right in front of the Queen. Her eyes flicker over to Henry; he’s still looking off to the side, completely uninvested in her. The lack of recognition hurts, but she takes comfort knowing that she’s feeling how Regina felt when they came back from New York, and she takes it as penance.

At least the Regina here has Henry.

She turns her attention back to Regina and wonders what her whole deal here is. She’s met three different versions of Regina now: a Sheriff Regina, a young Regina, and now the Evil Queen. She’s not getting the connection, but her head buzzes unpleasantly when she thinks about it.

Wait, _ Sheriff_, like her? Like the _ \- _

###    
  
  
  


* * *

“On behalf of Storybrooke, I would like to welcome you,” Regina says in a grandiose manner as she slowly stands up. The thrones are on another platform, raised in a way that when Regina steps in front of her, she’s practically towering.

Emma blinks, her head blank for a moment as she rapidly tries to remember how she got here. But when Regina leans over, extending a hand and pushing her enticing breasts right at her eye level, she stops thinking and starts reacting. 

She reaches out and gives the hand a firm shake, making a very not-so-subtle once over, playing into Regina’s game. “_Pleasure _ to be here, _ Mayor_.” She smirks a little when the Queen narrows her eyes slightly, hearing Emma’s slight inflection on the words. Did she say that sarcastically? Maybe just a little; seeing Regina like this brings out the smug little daredevil in her that just wants to annoy the crap out of the other woman.

When Regina straightens up, Emma steps back a bit so Regina doesn’t look nearly as imposing. She crosses her arms loosely and smirks upward at the other woman. “I have to say, when I rolled into town, I wasn’t expecting such a welcome.” She gives a halfhearted look around the room but keeps Regina in the corner of her eye.

Regina’s smile is stiff as she shows her rows of gleaming white teeth. “Well, _ Miss Swan_, we weren’t quite expecting you to visit, had we known, there’d be much more of a… reception.” Regina’s hand flies up to simulate fireworks, but Emma knows Regina’s just being dramatically sarcastic. “Maybe if you give me the reason for your _ visit, _ I could arrange something for you next time.”

She openly smirks: _ there it is. _ It’s been awhile since she played this game with Regina.

Emma looks down and picks at her nails with disinterest. “Nah, not much for all the commotion, I’d rather it not be such a big deal with I’m in town.” She looks up and sees a flash of anger in brown eyes since she’s purposely not answering the Mayor’s questions. 

To be fair, she honestly couldn’t answer even if she wanted to. _ She _ doesn’t even know why she’s here, and her plan for avoiding this Regina flew right out the window when she was requested to see the Mayor.

She sees Regina inhale and open her mouth, about to say something again—possibly push her more for information—but Henry chimes in with a, “Mother, just let her go, you’re wasting your time and I have to go back to sword practice.”

The Mayor’s jaw clicks shut and she swings her head to look at her son with a soft smile. “You’re right, my little prince.” She then turns back to Emma. “I suppose you’re free to explore town, _ Miss Swan_. Do try not to cause any problems.”

There’s that mayoral smirk again. It’s chilling how fitting her name and that smile match the Evil Queen, but she supposes Regina was pulling from her Evil Queen side when they first met. It’s a facet of Regina she hasn’t met in a long time, and it still does something to her stomach whenever that side reappears. They did build their relationship on how well they fit and how well they clashed, pushing each other to be even better than the other, so she’s not surprised at the way she just wants to gravitate towards the Queen.

With a cheeky grin, she decides to say, “I’ll try not to hit into any signs then.” Even though it gives this Regina zero context, she still feels a bit smug at the inside joke.

She turns around to leave, opening the double doors herself, much to the surprise of David on the other side. “Oh, you’re-”

“Alive? Did you think I wouldn’t be?”

His eyes go wide while he leads her back outside the castle. “Oh, no, I wouldn’t presume that the Mayor would- She wouldn’t do such a thing.”

She tilts her head to look at him; she’s never seen her dad defend Regina before, so this was a new sight for her. It’s odd, this whole place is odd, but it’s comforting to know that this Regina isn’t just going around killing people. Henry’s also here and with Regina, so that must be why.

When they get back to her car, David knocks on her window, so she rolls it down. “So any plans in town?”

She shrugs; her only connection here is really just Regina and Henry, and they’re both not very welcoming. She supposes she can head into town and see what she can do to get back to… _ home_, she guesses. Especially when there’s magic in this place, there must be something she can find to help. She still can’t use her own magic, so she’ll need to rely on someone else.

“Are newcomers that rare?”

David tilts his head and looks at the castle pensively. “Not many people stumble in here, you know?”

She remembers the border and the less than stellar welcome, and she’s not very surprised. “I guess I just have that kind of luck,” she says wryly. “Know where I can go from here? Places to stay?”

David scratches his chin as he thinks, a habit it seems. “I only know where you shouldn’t go.” He quickly glances at the castle again and leans forward. “Don’t go to _ Granny’s _ and don’t talk to any _ Mary Margarets_ if you know what’s good for you.”

She knows she doesn’t hide her surprise well when David leans away and gives her a knowing look, but _ damn, _ that was not what she was expecting. She should’ve known from the Evil Queen get-up she’d be caught in the middle of the Snow White and Evil Queen fiasco, because that’s just her luck. 

“Know if the library is safe or not?” She wonders if she can continue on her original plan with finding any books on magic. There’s gotta be books on magic in this world/realm/wherever the fuck she is, right?

“It should be, but why would you want to go ther-”

She waves him off and rolls up the window, reversing the car to drive out of the driveway for the castle—that is such a weird sentence—and avoiding David’s questions because she doesn’t know how to give an answer that doesn’t make her sound crazy. She makes her way back down the mountain, spinning around it in circles until she gets near the bottom and of course, the golem is awake.

It stands there at the base of the mountain like a wall, with its back facing toward her, and she slows down before she gets too close to it. The closest to a golem she’s encountered has been an ice golem, and she had to team up with Regina to get rid of it—and her magic isn’t even working right now. So she’s screwed.

She’s hoping it’ll go back to sleep again if she waits long enough, but after sitting there for 10 minutes, her patience runs thin. She gets out of the car and warily walks up to it with a barking, “Hey!” and it doesn’t move, not even a twitch. “Hey, golem thing!”

She doesn’t want to walk too close in case it just turns around and smashes her, so she keeps yelling at it, hoping to get its attention. Eventually, its head turns, the rectangular block-like head spinning at the base to look behind it and see her. When it does, the whole body spins and rearranges itself to face her without even taking a step, and she startles backward.

“W-H-A-T”

Oh, it speaks. She flounders for a moment, not actually expecting a reply. “Can I get through? You’re blocking the way.”

It takes about three seconds for the golem to register her words, and another three seconds to look down at its feet and back at her again. For a moment she’s hopeful, but then the golem’s square jaw opens and it gives a very clear, “N-O”.

Stupid, damn, block head.

“Really? Just shift a little to the side, let my car through and you can go back to standing here all you want!”

“N-O”

She wants to throw something, though that might just anger it, probably wouldn’t even do any damage. She sits on the hood of her car in a huff with her arms crossed as she stares at the ridiculous obstacle in front of her. Of all things to block her way, she didn’t expect a literal wall.

It rearranges itself again to look down from the base of the mountain, which for some reason angers her more. She’s not even important enough to be looked at, apparently.

She sits there and looks up; she got into town some time in the morning, drove up the mountain, spent time talking to Regina, then drove back down again. The sun is halfway down the sky, so she’s probably halfway through the day already. She wonders if golems are a little nocturnal and when it's ever going to sleep again. She wonders if she’ll have to stay here all night; sleeping in her bug isn’t new, but it’s not preferable.

She maybe spends an hour, two hours, just waiting there. Maybe less, who knows; time does feel like it moves slower when she’s not doing anything. So she parks the car right there in the middle of the road and lays down in the back seat. She feels exhausted and she doesn’t know what’s keeping her going. Maybe there’s nothing keeping her going right now. She wants to go home, get out of this crazy world and kiss her wife and hug her kid. It’s a simple concept, but her life is anything but simple.

The backseat of the bug is lumpy but it’s familiar, and it doesn’t take long to close her eyes and drift off. Vaguely, she feels a hand caressing and stroking her hair, but her eyelids are too heavy to open them and look.

* * *

_ She leans over the body on the floor, red blossoming and spreading through already red clothes, making it a deeper colour. _

_ “No- I didn’t mean to- I-” _

_ The person on the floor chokes as blood bubbles up their throat. “W-why…?” _

_ She shakes her head, eyes wide with terror. “It wasn’t me!” she sobs, “It wasn’t me…” _

_ She stands up and stares at all the people surrounding them, surrounding her. All of them watching her warily, judging her with accusing eyes. _

_ “I will fix this.” _

* * *

A knock on her window jolts her awake and she looks up to see who it is. Then she groans because _ shit _.

Her mom’s there, waving and smiling at her, and she quickly gets up to open the door and step out.

“Hi!” Mom chirps at her and she nods, glancing up the path to the mountain wondering if Regina could spy on her. Her mom stretches out her hand. “I’m Mary Margaret!”

_ Of course. _ She shakes her head slightly before taking the hand. “Emma Swan.”

Mary Margaret looks almost like her mom, except she has much longer hair. She’s also not wearing those turtleneck sweaters or covered head to toe in flower patterns. There’s a bit more of a wild look to her, her smile less sunny and a little more lopsided. Mary Margaret’s wearing a vest with long sleeves and tight pants, which is a peculiar look, and Emma’s wrapping her mind around it still.

“Are you trying to get down?”

Emma winces and looks over at the golem; it’s still standing there but watching them this time. “Yeah, this guy won’t let me through though.”

Mary Margaret gives her a beaming smile and walks over to the golem. Emma watches as they chat, the golem giving one word replies as Mary Margaret gestures and talks her way around it. Eventually, the golem nods and steps to the side, looking grumpy, but at least now Emma can drive across.

The brunette jogs back to her and chirpily says, “There, all done!”

And she’s always a little wary about that chirp, that overly enthusiastic tone her mom adopts when she’s hiding something or she wants something. Emma’s always been a little cautious when it comes to people, but she’s learned the hard way when it comes to not suspecting Mary Margaret of anything. She nods though, and drives past the golem, the big hunk of rock watching her drive by sullenly, and she watches as Mary Margaret runs up to her again.

“So where are you off to?” The brunette subtly glances up the mountain where the castle is at, and Emma knows she’s trying to get answers.

“Nowhere in particular.” Emma has a feeling that she shouldn’t mention the library. But this might have been the wrong answer since Mary Margaret gives her a beaming smile again, the gleam behind it full of mischief.

“You should come with me to Granny’s then! Everyone goes through there at least once!”

She internally groans; this is literally what David told her _ not _ to do. She doesn’t know what else to do though, as she’s not exactly socially equipped to decline the offer of someone that just helped her out. In the end, she can’t do anything but shrug and nod out with a, “Sure, I guess.”

Mary Margaret hops into the passenger seat and Emma pretends she doesn’t know anything about Granny’s so her not-mom would describe it. It doesn’t take long for her to drive there; the town is built like a cul-de-sac where the road circles around the castle and the buildings are all scattered along the road.

As she drives up to Granny’s however, she gets the honour of witnessing a unicorn gallop up to the diner. Ruby then pops out to feed it as it taps its horn against the tables placed outside. Her jaw may or may not have fallen open and Mary Margaret laughs. “Mrs. Stormcloud is a little hungrier than usual today.”

Emma’s face scrunches up. “Stormcloud?”

“Yes, she married Mr. Stormcloud last year!” The brunette says it like it’s all perfectly normal _ when in fact _ that answer answered absolutely nothing at all. If anything, now Emma has more questions. Who is Mr. Stormcloud? _ What _ is Mr. Stormcloud? And _ why _ Mr. _ Stormcloud _ of all things?

But she parks the bug and Mary Margaret quickly leads her into Granny’s before she can even begin to ask any of these things. Ruby glances at them, and that is Emma’s only indication that they were acknowledged. The bell on the door clangs when they step through it, and she looks to the counter out of habit.

She doesn’t know why she feels so disappointed when the muffins are _ still _ not there.

The whole diner goes quiet for a moment, and Emma feels herself tensing from the atmosphere. “Don’t get many visitors, I take it?” she asks rhetorically to Mary Margaret.

She’s effectively ignored when Mary Margaret taps the counter. “I’ll have a club sandwich with chimera and tomatoes.” The brunette shares a look with Granny, who’s standing there cleaning a glass, before Granny slowly nods. “C’mon.” Mary Margaret beckons Emma to her as she walks to the back of the diner.

Emma feels like she’s being led to the mafia and Granny’s is a storefront, and her feelings are correct when she’s led to a small room with a single table inside of it. She’s more surprised at the people already there though. She knows David and Leroy are working for Regina, but she wasn’t expecting Whale and…

“Zelena?” she accidentally blurts out when she sees wild ginger hair. There Zelena is, sitting and giving her a sour look, and also, very _ very _pregnant.

“Oh! Do you know each other?” Mary Margaret asks as she grabs a seat and sits down.

“No,” they both promptly say, and Emma ignores the curious look nearly everyone in the room is giving her.

The door opens behind her and she hears, “Hey, I’m here, sorry, Mrs. Stormcloud wouldn’t stop talking about her new foals.” Emma turns and catches Ruby giving her an appraising look. “So this the one?” Ruby nods towards Emma, and Mary Margaret nods.

“Emma, why don’t you sit down?” her definitely-not-mom demands with a saccharine smile.

She slowly grabs a chair and lowers herself on it, but she sits in a way that will allow her to get up and run if she has to. Not that she thinks she can outrun a werewolf and a witch, but it’s the effort that matters.

“Now, Emma, I’m sure you’re confused as to why you’re here,” Mary Margaret starts off and Emma doesn’t even bother to nod, “but we just want to get to know you, figure out why you’re in town.”

“Yeah, and why you were at the Mayor’s castle!” Whale interjects but is swiftly silenced by a kick from Zelena and a death glare from Ruby.

“So all this is because I talked to the Mayor?” Emma watches as they all share a look around the table and she shakes her head, standing up.

“Wait, wait, Emma.” The repetition of her name drags out a memory that she didn’t want. Mary Margaret is trying to humanize her, Emma realizes, trying to bridge a connection between them by repeating her name. It’s something that therapists do; it’s something that police do as well. “I don’t think you understand that there’s two sides here and you have to choose one.”

She makes a show of rolling her eyes. “Look, I’m just passing through. I don’t want to be involved in your political bullshit or whatever, okay?”

She moves to the door but Mary Margaret calls out to her again. “If you step out that door now, we’ll have to assume you choose the Mayor’s side!”

Emma spins and holds out her arms in a shrug. “Well, I guess you’re just gonna have to count me on the Mayor’s team then.” She turns back to the door and opens it to step out, but not before holding up a fist and raising it. “Viva la Queen! Or whatever.”

She heads back out the way she came in, walking by Granny who’s eyeing her suspiciously. And because she’s feeling a little pissed off, she taps the counter and side-eyes the old woman. “Terrible service, never got that chimera sandwich.”

She then steps out and heads back to her bug. She exhales deeply when she’s in the safety of her car, not realizing she’s been holding it in this whole time. God, what a mess. Somehow in the span of a day, she’s already claimed allegiance to Regina and alienated herself from the rest of town. Figures.

_ “That could have gone better.” _

She jumps from the voice, but she can’t help but feel happy when she sees her wife being sassy beside her. “Eh, it could’ve gone worse too,” she points out, and her wife gives her an unimpressed look.

Regina looks faded, like she’s barely clinging onto the world, and Emma wonders what that could mean. 

_ “Where to now?” _ She notices that her wife is pointedly trying not to talk about their previous encounter and what she tried to warn Emma away from.

“The library.” She starts up the ignition, but she sees a plume of green smoke appear next to the drivers side of her car. When the smoke clears, she sees Zelena’s unimpressed look, and Emma frowns but rolls down her window anyway.

“What do you want?”

Zelena leans down, and Emma tenses when she stares directly at Regina. “I saw you talking to yourself.”

Emma breathes out slowly. Apparently Zelena can’t see her wife, which is a concern in and of itself, but not a current concern. She glances at her rearview mirror and asks, “Saw or heard?”

Zelena must have seen her look at the mirror because she bites her lip before hesitantly replying, “I might have been spying?”

Emma sighs when Zelena just shrugs. “You Mills’ all have a serious privacy issue,” she mutters.

_ “Excuse me, I’m much more tactful.” _

She turns to the passenger seat and rolls her eyes before quickly turning back to Zelena. She manages to catch the ginger’s eyes go wide before Zelena leans back and pulls at her own hair nervously. “So, Regina talked about me?”

Emma tilts her head, first at her wife, who doesn’t look all that interested in the conversation—and she briefly wonders how long Regina will stay with her—then she tilts back to Zelena and takes note of the nervous tick. “She didn’t actually,” she replies and sees Zelena’s shoulders tense, “but then again, we didn’t exactly talk long enough to go through our family history. I was also too busy antagonizing her.”

“Oh,” Zelena breathes out, and her shoulders droop a little.

Emma glances at the diner before leaning forward until she’s almost leaning outside of her car window. “Do they know you’re sisters?”

The other woman’s eyes go wide again. “No, no, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything.” Emma’s a little taken aback by the sincerity; she’s never heard Zelena genuinely plead before but the last time she saw her was-

Was-

Her head throbs, a startling pain from the side of her skull, and the buzzing is back again. She doesn’t remember what she was even trying to remember, so she stops thinking. “I won’t say anything if you won’t.” She meets sincerity with sincerity and tries not to look too surprised when a wave of relief visibly washes through Zelena.

There’s a whole thing here, a fight between Snow White and the Evil Queen but more modern, more messy politics, more espionage. At least, that’s what she assumes Zelena is doing. For a pregnant woman, she’s certainly putting a lot on the line by throwing herself out there at the forefront of this rebellion, or coup, or whatever Mary Margaret thinks she’s doing. The least Emma could do is not blow her cover.

“Well, I just came out here to tell you, you made the right choice in not getting into this mess.”

Emma hums and thinks about her wife and son. She takes another glance at her wife, sitting patiently in the passenger's seat. “Who says I’m not already right in the thick of it?” She takes the handbrake off and reverses out of parking, leaving Zelena to ponder her words. She sees Zelena in her rearview mirror, looking at her departing car with her arms crossed, and she shakes her head. She doesn’t have time for this; her game plan is to go to the library, research up on portals or something to get her wife back, and then she can put all this behind her.

_ “Do you really have to do this?” _

She frowns at her wife’s words when they arrive at the library. “Is there any other way?” She turns and sees her wife looking at her sadly, and she sighs. “I just wanna get back home, Regina.”

_ “Home may not be what you remember it to be.” _

Emma raises an eyebrow and wonders what in the world that even means. But Regina fades and shifts and disappears before she can even form a question, and she leans back in her car seat with a sigh. 

Her head hurts, everything’s exhausting, and she’s about ready to throw in the towel. Then she remembers her family waiting for her, her mornings of peace and calm and domestic bliss and no, she has to keep trying.

She gets out of her car and is happy to note that the library _ isn’t _ boarded up, but is a little down when she sees that no one’s managing it. Everyone’s on the wrong side here; her dad and Snow White’s biggest supporting dwarf are on Regina’s side, so she wonders which side Belle would be on.

She only considers it peripherally because she quickly finds books on magic, and she didn’t even have to go to the back for them either. She scans through them quickly, searching for keywords, but she doesn’t find much when it comes to portals.

_ Time portals are a myth as going through time is an impossibility. _

She tosses that book to the side because apparently the author has never met Zelena. She grabs another book on portals.

_ Portals to different realms require a magic bean, a magical artifact, or a spell. _

Okay, all information she already knew, though she’s never considered the magical artifact angle. Maybe she can talk to the Regina here and ask if she has something she can use. 

Wait, that doesn’t work because she’s in the right realm. Where is she even gonna go? She wants to go to Storybrooke, but apparently this _ is _ Storybrooke. She feels her head hurting again.

She finds the couch in the back. It’s nice to see the familiar couch that’s always been here whenever her and Regina came here for research. Back at home, back before any of this happened and Emma's biggest problem was dealing with whatever new flavour of villain popped up every week. She grabs a bunch of books and stacks them on the ground beside the couch. Then she hunkers down, preparing for a long night.

* * *

It’s in that exact same spot where Henry finds her when he enters the library. He peruses the bookcases as if they’re a horrible creature that will jump out. He’s slightly different from the Henry she’s met with Sheriff Regina, but not all that dissimilar.

“Oh,” he startles when he notices her, then he tilts his head, “why are you here?”

“I can’t be in the library, kid?”

Henry frowns, glancing around the place as if it changed in the three seconds they’ve been talking before looking back at her. “Not many people come in here.”

She almost rolls her eyes; oh, she’s definitely noticed the dustiness on the books. “Then why are you here? You don’t really look like you enjoy the books.”

“Neither do you,” he points out, and Emma can’t do anything but shrug. “Mother wants me to read more.”

“But you’d rather be…” She glances at the sword strapped to his hip. He carries himself differently than her son, her Henry. He stands with more confidence and she likes it, but she likes the lanky awkwardness her son wears as well.

Henry must notice where her eyes go because he nods and taps his scabbard. “Yes, I rather continue my sword training, but Mother said I need to be both physically and mentally versed.”

“Sounds tough.” She gives a wry smile, and there’s a tiny start to a smirk on his face. “You don’t like reading then, I take it?”

He frowns slightly, then turns to a bookcase and pulls out a book, skimming through it and taking his time to form an answer. “It’s not that I don’t enjoy it, I just feel like I’m wasting my time.”

Emma snaps the book that’s been sitting open in her lap shut and puts it in the read pile with a sigh. “How so?”

He side-eyes her. “Are you aware of the rebellion brewing in town?”

Emma scrunches up her face as she recalls the meeting Mary Margaret dragged her into. She also grimaces at the way Henry speaks; it’s so weird and very lacking in the teenager she’s familiar with. Different ways of growing up, she supposes. This Henry doesn’t seem to hold a grudge against Regina, no screaming _ ‘I found my real mom’ _ or _ ‘she doesn’t love me, she’s the Evil Queen’ _. Instead, this Henry holds himself with poise and regality. She feels oddly proud.

“Kinda, not really.” She gestures to Henry’s sword. “Will it require you to fight them off with a sword though?”

He glances at her before turning his attention back to the book. He’s holding it open with one hand, skimming it with a finger on the page with his other hand. His gold armour is so bulky that the little movements of flipping the page cause the plates to squeak and groan against each other.

“You never know,” he says at last, “I just want to train to be a knight so I can do my best to protect Mother.”

She smiles at him. “That sounds like a good plan, kid. Maybe I’ll join you in the ranks one day.”

He fully turns his head to look at her at that. “You want to protect Mother as well?”

She shrugs. “Yeah, I really care about her. Not sure how well I’d do with a sword though.”

He finally cracks a grin. “I don’t know, you look like you could be a fine knight. The White Knight to the Queen.”

She laughs, half at the irony. “Maybe I can start off as your squire or something.”

Henry’s closed his book now, his body turned to facing her and a beaming smile on his face. _ Ah_, she thinks, like how her Henry really enjoys talking about stories and books, this one loves talking about swords and fighting. Just as he’s about to open his mouth and say something, a puff of purple smoke appears and she can feel her heart pounding.

Emma finds she never tires at watching the way the Queen practically lurches from the smoke and stalks to her destination with purpose.

“Henry,” Regina says, relief heavy in her voice. “I’ve been looking for you. What have I said about sneaking away?”

Henry gives his mom a cheeky grin. “Not to, but I’m in the library and reading, so you can’t complain.”

“Why don’t you just read at home?”

Henry gives a one-shouldered shrug. “I’ve already read everything there. Besides, this is a change in scenery. We can’t stay secluded in the castle for too long, Mother.”

Regina looks at him with love and affection as she reaches out and strokes his hair. “You got me there, little prince.” She then turns her attention to Emma, which Emma wasn’t expecting. “Miss Swan, you’re here as well.”

Emma notices brown eyes dart toward the stack of books around her. She stands up and shrugs as if being surrounded by piles of books was an everyday occurrence. “I guess I am.” Challenge flashes in Regina’s eyes whenever Emma gives an obtuse answer, and it thrills her to no end.

“Had I known you knew how to read, I would have invited you to the library in the castle.”

Emma has to hold in her laugh at the way Regina loves to subtly insult people. “Had I known you knew how to be nice, I would have taken up your offer.”

Noticing the tension between the two, Henry chimes in with a, “Mother, Swan said she would want to be a knight one day as well.”

“Really?” Regina looks from Henry to Emma, then appraises Emma from head to toe with a discerning eye. “What are your qualifications, Miss Swan?”

She smirks, knowing the answer to this one. “I mean, I killed a dragon one time, I guess.”

Not expecting that answer, Regina frowns, her jaw opening and closing before she can formulate a proper reply. “That’s-”

“That’s so cool!” 

Henry practically hops up and down as he brims with excitement. “What was it like? How did you beat it? How big was the dragon?” Regina’s frown deepens, and she turns back to Henry as he pelts Emma with a bunch of questions.

“I think we’ve stayed here long enough. Night has almost fallen, and there’s not enough time to listen to Miss Swan’s long story about killing a dragon.”

“It’s not that long actuall-”

“Maybe she can tell the story next time.”

Henry pouts and Regina gives him an apologetic smile, then turns to Emma, tilting her head as she looks at her with consideration. “If you don’t mind, that is.”

“Yeah.” Emma nods, trying to hold back her enthusiasm; just being in the company of Henry and Regina gives her a sense of relief, and she likes how well they all mesh together. “Next time is good.” She gestures to the books all around her. “I guess I’ll just be here.”

Regina hums. “Yes, I suppose you will.” Regina then reaches out and clasps her hand around Henry’s, and they both disappear in a plume of purple.

Emma then sighs and falls into the couch, already missing their company and dreading going back to reading. She misses researching with Regina when a big bad would go through town, and she remembers it being much more fun—well, as much fun as it could get. It was certainly much more interesting with her wife being there whenever her attention waned; she’d just marvel at the other woman, which usually annoyed Regina, but then they’d get a snack break, after which Regina would force them to go right back at it.

If she was lucky, she’d get to cuddle as they read. Just the comfort of them being next to each other is enough for her to try, enough for her to work harder.

* * *

A few more days pass like this where she’s holed up in the back of the library, searching through book after book. The read pile is slowly overtaking the unread pile, and it worries her that she’s no closer to figuring out how to beat this curse than when she originally started. Sure, she’s learned a lot about magic—its usage and theories—but none of it is actually useful to her.

She has her head down, absorbed in a book about using ‘Potions for the Magically Uninclined’, when she feels a familiar presence.

_ “Emma.” _

It’s her wife; she’s been popping in and out a lot these days. 

Usually just telling her to, _ “Please stop, Emma, I’m worried about you.” _

“I’ll be fine when you come back to me.”

_ “Emma, you need to rest.” _

“I’ll be _ fine _ when you come back to me,” Emma repeats with gritted teeth. She doesn’t even bother to look up now as she feels her wife flutter around her. She hears her wife’s soft sigh, and then she feels a sort of wispy presence caress her cheek. She wants to lean into it, but she knows her wife will disappear if she does.

_ “I wish you would give up, darling.” _

Emma inhales sharply and lets it out quickly. She doesn’t understand how her wife went from supporting her and telling her she can fix this to wanting Emma to stop what she’s doing. She wonders briefly if this version of her wife, this _ figment _ of her imagination, is somehow the curse. But she doesn’t want to believe it—cannot believe it—because the worry in her wife’s voice sounds so genuine.

“You know I’ll never give up on you, Regina. I’ll get you back, I promise.”

Very soon after she says that, she hears the clicking of heels against the hardwood flooring, and her wife’s presence is gone.

“Miss Swan.” Her name, said in a familiar smokey husky tone that’s part greeting and part curiosity. Emma looks up this time and sees the way brown eyes dart all over her face. “You’re still here.”

She wryly smiles at Regina, her eyes drifting slightly down to the cleavage on display—because she’s tired, and only human—before looking back down to her book. “Yup.”

Regina huffs at her one-word answer and walks closer until Emma can see the bottom of her dark dress and heeled boots. “Was this your purpose in town? To read every book about magic in existence?”

She gives a short bark of laughter and looks up, seeing Regina much closer than she original thought, glittering brown eyes looking down at her with intrigue. “And if it is?”

Regina tilts her head as she regards her and the books strewn about the room. “You’re a curious one, Miss Swan.” Then Regina’s eyes dart back to her face, eyes searching. “You don’t look well.”

Laughter escapes her lips in a breathy whisper. She sort of likes this brusque version of Regina, one that tells it like it is and wholly unfamiliar with the idea of being vulnerable. It’s completely different and refreshing from the ghost of her wife following her around and telling her to stop what she’s doing.

“Good to know I look like shit, thanks.”

“You don’t look like-” Regina huffs. “I just think whatever task you’ve set yourself to do shouldn’t be worth your health like this.”

Emma’s eyes narrow as she considers the odd attitude change in regards to her. They’ve met three times, the first time less than amicable between them, the second a tentative truce in the presence of Henry. “I’m surprised you care.”

Regina shuffles and straightens her back, turning her head and not looking at her directly. The movement causes something to glint behind her. Emma sees a small round mirror hanging on a wall and wonders if that’s been there this whole time.

“Were you spying on me, Mayor?” And the words come out of her mouth with way more accusation than she intended, but Regina’s eyes widen and she stumbles back.

“Not on purpose,” the Queen quickly says in defence. “I was trying to find my son, and I did. But then I-”

“Just kept checking in and watching?” She takes it she’s right when Regina’s cheeks colour. The Queen before her fidgets with her hands, and Emma can’t help the affectionate eye roll. “Sorry I didn’t put on a more interesting show.” She’s been cooped up in here for the past few days, talking to herself, talking to her wife, and reading, so much reading.

Regina gestures to a seat on the couch beside her, and Emma nods, moving the books down onto the ground. The Mayor tentatively lowers herself on the couch and perches on it in a way that’s much too regal for the worn out couch she’s sitting on.

“You’re much more interesting than you make yourself out to be, Miss Swan.” She says it with such genuine sincerity that Emma musters up a smile in thanks. Regina then fidgets again, looking at her hands as she contemplates her next words. “You did very well with handling Henry.”

Emma can’t decide if she wanted to cry or laugh. She almost tells Regina that she most certainly did not handle him well from when they first met in Boston up until he got hit by a sleeping curse and shit hit the fan in Storybrooke. Instead she shrugs and reaches out to put her hand on top of Regina’s fidgeting ones; she recognizes by now when Regina’s feeling insecure and her body moves on autopilot. “He’s a good kid, you raised him really well. I can tell how much he loves you.”

Regina looks up at her and gives her a watery smile. “He won’t stop talking about you and the possibility of beating a dragon himself.”

“_Are _ there dragons here?”

Regina shakes her head. “Not in this realm; dragons prefer wider spaces like forests and mountains. They’re very isolated creatures and like to keep to themselves.”

“Huh.” She thought of Maleficent, and the way she backed off and didn’t care about revenge when Emma found Lily and brought them together. “Is it a common thing? Travelling between realms.”

Regina tilts her head, the curiosity back in her eyes again. “No, not usually. It requires quite a bit of power, like artifacts or large spells. Of which I have neither.” Regina must not miss the way disappointment fills Emma’s body because her eyes narrow. They search Emma’s eyes and roam her body language; Emma almost backs off in fear of being so thoroughly analyzed, but instead she looks back with challenge. “Are you planning on going somewhere, Miss Swan?”

“Apparently not, you’re stuck with me for now.”

Regina chuckles. “Unfortunately.” Then she turns her palm facing up and Emma realizes her hand has been on Regina’s this entire time. “So I hear you claimed allegiance to me?”

She wonders how long Regina’s been planning on asking that one. The Queen says it in jest, but Emma can hear the hopeful tone in the husky voice. “Is this more of your not-spying?” she asks with a cheeky grin, and she enjoys the sudden flush of colour on Regina’s cheeks.

“You came into town so suddenly. Anyone would be worried, and then you’re seen with Mary Margaret of all people,” Regina replies with an indignant huff. Emma can’t help but rub circles on the hand below hers with her thumb.

“Well, now you know I’m on your side.”

Regina looks down at their tangled hands, a hint of a smile on her lips. “I’m afraid I’m unfamiliar with the idea.”

Emma thinks about Madame Mayor, all fire and fake bravado even as the town hates her, even as her own son hates her. The only thing holding her up was her refusal to give in and show weakness. She doesn’t want that Regina to hurt anymore; she doesn’t want _ this _ Regina to hurt anymore, because even if she has her son, she’s still fighting an uphill battle where everyone in town gossips and hates her. An enemy at every turn for the Evil Queen, whispers of rebellion on every corner. Emma can only assume how exhausting that must be.

She squeezes the hand in hers. “Better get used to it then. I’m not leaving anytime soon.”

She doesn’t realize how close they’re sitting together until Regina looks up, their eyes meeting, and she’s taken aback by how dark the other woman’s eyes are. Even in the dim light of the library, Regina’s eyes are like burnt umber, but right now, there’s only a tinge of brown in her eyes, her pupils blown wide.

Emma feels like her whole life orbits Regina’s. She orbits and circles until they finally clash. Their lips meet in a battle, in passion, in desperation. They fight the loneliness, they fight the world, they fight themselves, and for just a moment, they want to stop fighting.

Regina’s not gentle at all. It’s familiar from the times when her wife would be passionate, so passionate that she forgets to hold back, and these are the moments that Emma loves. There’s no holding back the Queen ever. Emma feels harsh nips and bites along her thin lips, and she knows she has to give as good as she gets. Regina drags and scratches and tears at her clothes, but they don’t shed any of them, only shifting to access skin as quickly as possible.

There’s no love, no love from Regina, no recognition, no gentleness, no proclamations in her touch, but Emma craves it regardless. Craves the intimacy from the woman she loves, even if it’s not really her, not fully her, but still a part of her. She can see the Regina she knows and loves in pieces, especially in all the sensitive places she presses a kiss to. The Queen reacts to her well placed bites and nips, Emma having had a roadmap to this woman’s body for years, and it’s comforting to know that they haven’t changed.

She loses herself, drunk on the warmth, on the husky moaning of her name, wrapping herself in a space of familiar comfort, in a space of pretending. Clothes shift, the stale library air hitting her sensitive heated skin for only a moment before they enter each other quickly.

Emma watches as Regina’s eyes gleam in mischief and lust when she hisses out from the intrusion, and they challenge each other with their eyes—always challenging—to see who can last the longest.

In the end, she doesn’t know who won, though if she asks Regina, Emma’s sure she’d say she did. They lie there, pressed against each other in the cramped couch space, breathing heavily and taking in their post-orgasm glow.

She brushes her hand and watches in fascination as it smooths over beautifully tan skin. She watches the stretch and the bounce as her hand moves across it, and she feels Regina back up a little more into her.

Regina hums as they lie there, a sort of contemplation in the air of silence. 

“I heard you say my name,” Regina suddenly says, breaking their peace. Emma just chuckles into her shoulder.

“Pretty sure I called out your name multiple times just now.”

“No,” Regina insists, “before I came here. I heard you say my name as if you were speaking to someone.”

She feels like she’s been splashed with cold water. She thinks about spying and mirrors. She thinks about hallucinations and her wife, and guilt fills her heart. “I think you should leave.” Emma’s already moving to get up and gain some distance between them. 

She doesn’t need to look to know that Regina’s hurt by her words, and she doesn’t stop her when Regina stands up with an, “I see.” She turns just in time to see Regina’s signature purple magic billow up as she poofs away. 

She can still smell her, Regina’s perfume lingering and coating her skin. Flashes and recollection of olive skin, the taste and feel of it, the smooth expanse of thighs and stomach, the arch of her back, she misses all of this. She craves it. But also, she feels guilty for indulging herself when she’s not with her wife, guilty of enjoying herself for even a moment when the Regina she loves is out there.

Emma cries, laying back down again and rubbing her tears against the couch. Her jacket was taken off, but she’s still clothed, and she reaches down to lift her jacket from the floor, draping it across her body as a blanket. She feels cold, a cold that’s not from the air but a chill that seeps into her bones. She’s tired, exhausted, lonely, and she just hurt the person she loves; she vaguely remembers feeling something similar when she met young Regina. She wants to apologize to her too. She wants to apologize to all the Reginas.

She falls asleep, apologizing to her wife and all the pieces of her in her mind, and for a moment she thinks she sees her wife looking down at her sadly.

* * *

_ Dear Regina, _

_ Stay by my side and I’ll save you. _

_ Forever yours, Emma _

* * *

“Emma!”

“Wha-” She wakes up, flinging the books that were on her all to the ground. She doesn’t remember when she woke up and started reading again, but the books all clatter to the floor as she looks around. She sees wild red hair and wide green eyes, and she groggily realizes that Zelena’s looking at her desperately. “What’s wrong?”

“They’re starting.”

Emma blinks a few times but stands up, and she feels noticeably much more awake. There’s a certain graveness in Zelena’s voice and she instantly thinks of Regina. “What’s starting? What’s going on?”

Zelena shakes her head. “There’s no time, we have to go.”

She holds up her hands. “Okay, okay, if it’s Regina, then take me there. I don’t have magic though, you’ll have to poof me.”

_ “No, don’t go.” _

She turns around and sees her wife laying down on the couch where she just was.

_ “You don’t have to go.” _ Her wife reaches a hand out to her, and Emma hesitates. She doesn’t want another Regina to die though. This one has been completely out of her control, but if she can be there and help, she will.

“Are you ready?” Emma turns and sees green eyes watching her curiously.

She takes one last look at her wife, then nods. “Yeah, poof me.”

The other woman gives her a judging look when she says the word ‘poof,’ but she wordlessly lifts up her hand anyway, and Emma’s soon surrounded by green.

* * *

When the smoke clears, the first thing she hears is the pounding coming from outside the room. She’s in the throne room, Regina pacing and Henry with a sword out, which he immediately points at her when she arrives.

“Miss Swan!” Regina looks at her with surprise (and maybe with a tinge of anger), and she doesn’t blame her. From the Queen’s point of view, Emma’s just some random person that drove into town and holed up in the library. Sure they might have… _ connected_, but Emma certainly didn’t seem like someone that would lay down her life for Regina. Especially not with what happened after, when Emma’s guilt brought her to kicking Regina out right at their most vulnerable.

But it’s different in Emma’s point of view.

Regardless of what happened between them, this Regina is the third—fourth, if you include her wife—Regina that’s been in mortal danger, and Emma doesn’t think she has the mental capacity to go through another loss. She’s already seeing her wife everywhere, and it says a lot about how far on the brink of insanity she is. Speaking of, Emma looks around and she can’t see her wife. She wonders if it’s a silent rebellion for not listening to her.

“Miss Swan, what are you doing here?” Regina’s eyes are hard, but with a tinge of concern for her being here. That’s when she knows she’s making the right decision. Regina worries for people, even if they’ve wronged her, even when she acts like she doesn’t care.

“What do you think? I told you I’m on your side.” She turns towards the door, which the townspeople are apparently banging on, and ignores Regina’s indignant squawk behind her. She stands beside Henry, who moved his sword away from her as soon as he realized who she is, and is now pointing it towards the door instead.

“I knew you were a knight.” He smirks at her, and she wryly smiles back.

“Yeah well, no one likes a smartass.” She’s not holding anything, but she bends her knees and gets into a fighting stance anyway. What she would give to be the sheriff again and have her gun. Unfortunately, she’s just going to rely on her bare fists and pummel the other side. Hopefully she’s still got a good right hook.

Right hook? Something about that brings a bad taste in her-

Suddenly, something pierces the ornate wooden door. It’s metal, and it reflects and warps the light in the room with the way it curves. Something about it feels familiar, and her stomach drops when she thinks about it. 

But she doesn’t think about it too long because soon the door is kicked open, and the townspeople scramble their way in. Something about their dead eyes is raising all her alarms however. They stumble and grab at her and her family, and they’re not what she expected at all. It’s when she sees Mary Margaret in the crowd, groaning and staring ahead with unblinking eyes, that she knows something’s definitely wrong.

“Uh, Regina?”

“Mother, something is not right.”

She hears Regina mutter and curse behind them before a fireball flies through the space between her and Henry. It hits a frothing Whale straight in the face, and he just falls to the floor like a tree. The swarm of people are completely unfazed at the fact that they just lost someone, and they climb over him, filling the space as if nothing happened. Where is Zelena, where is David? The other guards? Did they fall at the front lines? 

Her stomach drops at that as she steps forward and throws her best punch at a dwarf, but they barely flinch and continue forwards, making a grab at her arms.

Jesus Christ, this is scary. It’s like facing against zombies, only they’re not trying to bite her, which she’s thankful for.

“Mom!” She whirls towards Henry’s voice and sees him being engulfed by the pile of people.

“Henry!” both she and Regina yell, and Emma tries to dig her way towards her son-not-son. But then she hears a scream, so characteristically unlike Regina, but recognizable enough that it has her yelling “Regina!” She spins and just catches the moment when the Mayor’s hand disappears into the crowd.

The last thing she hears is Regina calling out “Swan!” and Emma yells out something animalistic. No, she can’t lose her again; she can’t lose either of them, not like this.

Her view is quickly blocked by the swarm of mindless puppets surrounding her, and she bats at them with both her limbs. “Fuck!” She pushes and punches, but it doesn’t deter them at all. Mary Margaret manages to grab her shirt and claw at her back, and it stings.

It stings and it hurts and she doesn’t know where Regina and Henry are.

“This shouldn’t be happening!” she screams, ducking down and curling up into a ball. “This isn’t real!”

Something she recognizes as her magic and _ something else _ slithers from her heart and spreads out to her limbs, covering her skin in a nice layer of magic. She feels it build and build and build as she listens to the uncomfortable groaning of the townspeople above her.

Her magic explodes and bursts out of her back and she screams, her back burning. Emma’s vision goes completely white and her world fractures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the sudden zombie invasion started off as a joke, but then I kept it in for a few reasons, which I won't bother to say lmao It's supposed to be sudden and doesn't make sense. I mean, wait until you get to the next chapter ;)  
I am sad I couldn't expand on this version of Regina though. As **soundslikehope** mentioned, she's never read such depressing sex before LOL and this is one of the lower points of the fic.


	6. Remember

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was meant to be joined with chapter 5 but then chapter 5 ballooned so I had to split it. And then what was meant to be a 2k chapter 6 ALSO ballooned to 10k SO ENJOY

Opening her eyes, she finds herself in complete darkness for once. Her first concern is Henry and Regina; she calls out their names but only hears an echo of her voice back.

It’s odd. She lifts up her hand and can see it clearly, her body lit up in stark comparison to the complete black around her. She thinks maybe it’s not the absence of light, but the absence of anything else in this space. So she runs, hoping to bump into someone else and hoping she can see them. She’s not even sure if she’s running anywhere, because after a few minutes, it’s the same complete darkness that’s been surrounding her from before, _ that’s always surrounding her_. And she calls out again, “Henry? Regina? Hen-”

Something catches her attention: movement in the corner of her eye. She spins, seeing bright yellow and crimson, and…

“What the-”

It’s a mirror. She sees her scared expression reflected off of it, her eyes sunken with heavy bags and worry coating them, the look highly unflattering. God, has she been running around looking like that this whole time? It’s the only thing she’s found in this space, and she wonders if it’s real, so she reaches forward to press her hand on it.

Emma feels the smooth surface make contact with the palm of her hand. Her reflection wavers at the touch, disappearing in a ripple, and in her reflection’s place is Regina.

She backs away as she looks at this version of Regina that’s almost exactly like her wife, only she carries herself differently. There’s a sort of uncertainty set in her shoulders, a caution and worry in her bones, which is unlike the casual confidence she’s used to seeing from her wife.

“Regina?”

She takes in the black trench coat and the dark eyes, and she doesn’t think Regina can hear her.

“Emma Swan.” Regina speaks into the mirror with a monotone voice, standing there as if she’s expecting something to happen before her shoulders drop and her head shakes in dismay. “It’s not working,” Regina mumbles, and Emma steps right up to the mirror and slams her hand against it.

“Regina! I’m here, I’m right here!” Her fist continues to hit the mirror even as she watches Regina turn and walk away, disappearing in a cloak of fog. She continues to hit it though, frustration wracking her body as she pounds her fist against the surface of the mirror, and she continues to yell out Regina’s name. She applies as much pressure as possible to the reflective surface until she sees the beginning of a crack, which only encourage her to hit it more.

She hits it until she gives it a final blow and the surface shatters. The pieces fall to the floor like glittering shards, and her knees hit the floor with her sobbing. Nothing hurts more than seeing Regina walk away when she’s right there, and it’s painful being in a place where Regina isn’t.

The mirror shards slowly levitate and float, spinning, dancing around her mockingly. She sees the image of Regina’s back, a constant loop of Regina leaving her, and she has to close her eyes. This feels like a nightmare, the most nightmarish world out of everything she’s seen so far.

Then they all shatter, the mirror shards exploding around her, remnants falling slowly to the floor like glitter, the sound deafening.

The earth moves beneath her. She feels herself being slowly raised and realizes she’s on a platform. Lights flare up all around her and she reflexively closes her eyes as she tries to adjust. Music starts, slowly and quietly at first before it raises in volume, and soon she hears loud carnival music playing all around her.

Seats pop up from the floor, wooden benches arranged like pews at a church. One erupts right underneath her, and she’s forced into sitting on it. The seats move and shift, the benches at the front falling and disappearing into the floor, until she’s sitting right at the front. She thinks _ front _ because there’s a stage with curtains draped over it. 

The music changes and she hears clattering behind her. She turns and sees a march of cardboard puppets go down the aisle of benches, heading towards the stage. She recognizes them as cartoonish renditions of people she knows: the fairies, Granny, the dwarves, Belle, Ruby, David, Mary Margaret, then Henry and Regina.

They all slowly fall into line on the stage, the curtains now pulled back, and a cardboard backdrop of Storybrooke is set up as well. It’s interesting, and the puppets all spin happily, but she quickly feels a presence beside her and turns.

There’s a man she doesn’t fully recognize; he has smooth black skin, cleanly shaved hair and beautiful brown eyes. He looks at her knowingly, sadness and regret in his features before he turns towards the stage.

“I believed in you, Emma. You had the choice to be better.” She frowns at the disappointment in his voice, and she can’t help but feel she’s let him down. “I’m sorry it had to be this way.”

She hears screams and her head snaps to the front again. The puppets have turned into their human counterparts… and they’re all _ on fire. _

“No!” she hears herself scream. “No! Stop! Make it stop!” She turns back to the man, only to see that he’s disappeared. She scrambles to get up, to get away from the scene before her.

And she runs.

She doesn’t know where she’s running to, but it’s dark again, and she’s going headlong into the darkness. Emma collides roughly into someone, the impact bouncing her back and causing her to hit the ground. She’s dizzy and has to blink a few times before seeing the person before her.

“Killian?” She feels anger surge up inside and she’s unsure why.

He gives her a malicious grin, the glint of his teeth matching the glint off of his metal hook hand. A rapier then forms in his other hand; he holds it up with an accustomed stance, his body turning, arms tucking in a poise that speaks of familiarity.

“Wha-”

He lunges downward. She has to roll away, the tip of his blade thrusting at the spot where she was lying only moments ago.

She quickly pushes herself up onto her legs, and he sneers at her. “You’re really something, Swan,” he says, his voice thick and slimy, the sound making her skin crawl. “Happiness in the palm of your hand, and you couldn’t be satisfied with it, could you?”

There’s a sword in her hand, materializing from nowhere. It’s familiar and weighty in her hand. Comfortable, like it belongs there. She has to quickly raise it to block his next attack, clumsy in her stance as their blades spark from contact. He growls, pulling back his rapier and swinging his hook instead to hit her blade, the impact causing her to stumble back from the recoil.

“Poor Swan, forever the orphan and forever wishing for something she’ll never obtain.”

The words cutting her somewhere deep within her heart. “Shut up!” she screams, swiping at him with her weapon, but he dodges easily. “You don’t know anything!” 

She sees him smirk again, a gleam in his eyes, an intent to kill, and he lunges once again before she’s fully prepared to block it. She closes her eyes in fear and thrusts her own sword forward without looking.

There’s a sound of blade against flesh. Emma hears a garbled choke and opens her eyes. Blood bubbles up from Killian’s throat, dribbling out of his mouth and down his chin. She looks down and gasps: she’s skewered him right in the chest.

“Hah,” he gives a breathy chuckle, blood spurting out even more, “some Saviour you are.” His body begins to fall and she lurches forward, attempting to catch him, but he disappears in a swirl of darkness before he could fully hit the floor, leaving only her on the ground instead. Her sword still in hand. She brings it up, watching as Killian’s blood flows down from tip to handle.

It’s long with the pointed end wavy, and the tip of the blade doesn’t match the rest of the blade. It almost looks like one sword was just attached to another one. She hears voices, harsh whisperings hissing in her ear, urging her to run her hand through the blood and she gives in, tracing a finger down smooth metal all the way until she hits an engraving.

_ Killian Jones _

She sees the name clearly, tracing it to make sure she’s seeing right. Blood mingles into the etching, and she watches as the name is erased in a puff. There’s nothing there now but the smooth flat edge of the blade, and she drops the sword as if the handle was hot, a burning in the back of her throat as the thought that she just killed him finally registers in her mind.

She gets up, staring down at the sword in horror. _ What has she done? _ She killed him so naturally, not even questioning it when he fell. Cackling starts around her, and she turns and runs once again.

It’s dark once more. She doesn’t know where she’s going still; there’s no sense of direction, no sense of space. She keeps running and there’s no sense of time either. She doesn’t know how long she runs for, but eventually, off in the distance, she sees lights. Bright lights and music when she gets close enough. 

It’s a Ferris wheel, spinning and illuminating the entire area. The light blooms and spreads and suddenly she’s in a carnival. She’s surrounded by unmanned booths and loud cheery music, and she looks around, a little overwhelmed.

Then a child runs past her. She blinks, and the whole carnival is filled with people. They’re all unfamiliar and faceless, and she spins in confusion. The booths are now filled with people with blonde hair and masks, yelling and gesturing for her to see their stand. All the kids are screaming and laughing, happy with the rides and the food, happy with the lights and the excitement. But the Ferris wheel calls out to her, calling from the distance near the center of the carnival, a round beacon of light.

She navigates through the crowds of people, faded but solidly in her way, and the maze of booths until she finally steps up to the base of the ride. There’s no line, and another person with a mask mans the Ferris wheel, their long blonde hair familiar. They pull the lever to operate the wheel, and a carriage stops at the base level; the door swings open and the masked person silently gestures for her to step in.

She’s not sure why, but she’s compelled to enter, so she steps into the small little compartment and the door closes behind her. The carriage lurches, and she feels herself rising from the ground. She’s never been in a Ferris wheel before, and the rickety small space is a little frightening, but when her carriage finally peaks over the booths, she sees the beauty of all the lights spread out underneath.

Emma slowly walks over to the window to get a better look. It’s pretty, and she can hear the happy murmuring of families below. It makes her somewhat more relaxed, and she presses a hand against the window, sighing into the glass.

She feels a hand gently touch her arm, a fleeting touch, and she turns.

“Regina,” she breathes, and the woman before her smiles ruefully. Regina’s wearing a beautiful silk dress; it’s flowy with long, wide sleeves, accented by silver along the neckline and a silver belt. Before she can help it, Emma reaches out and runs a hand through Regina’s hair, which is hanging over her shoulder. “Your hair’s long again,” she says quietly, longing clear in her voice.

Regina tilts her head, giving her a sad but affectionate look, and catches her hand, letting it slide down her shoulder until their hands meet at the end. Emma feels a squeeze, and then she’s led to sit on the seats of the carriage. She follows without resistance, completely transfixed.

Their eyes meet when they sit. She realizes how dark it is in the small space, the light from the carnival outside not doing enough justice to show just how deep and expressive Regina’s eyes are. The woman in front of her, this Regina, feels like her wife. She looks at Emma the same, with love, with affection, but it’s also a little different; there’s that tinge of sadness that’s been present since this whole thing started. It’s like her wife that’s been following her around, the one she assumed was a figment of her imagination, solidified and became real.

She hears an explosion behind her, a high-pitched screech, then popping sounds. She turns to see fireworks. “Emma,” Regina quietly calls out to her, and she turns again, watching the firework lights dance across Regina’s skin. She feels like she’s on a date, the small carriage private and her wife’s presence comfortable, so she leans in slowly, closing her eyes, ready to press her lips against Regina’s.

But she’s stopped by a hand pressed against her sternum. She opens her eyes, confused. Regina looks at her and shakes her head sadly, her face shifting downward, and Emma’s eyes follow. There’s something in Regina’s hand. Emma takes the hand and flips it over, revealing what’s in her palm.

It’s her journal. She frowns, her forehead wrinkling in confusion.

“You don’t love me, Emma.” Her head snaps up at Regina’s tone, a voice filled with sadness, and she vehemently shakes her head in refusal.

“I do, I love you, I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you if I have to.”

Regina gives her another sad smile and Emma hates it, wants to wipe the sadness away, wants to do anything in her power to make this woman happy. Regina holds her at bay so she can’t wrap her arms around her and comfort her, and it kills her. “Maybe you do now, but you didn’t before, not _ enough _anyway.” Regina tilts her head in consideration, her eyes darting around before landing somewhere on Emma’s collarbone. She reaches up, lightly caressing it, smoothing it over as if there was something there. Regina uses her thumb and traces her skin as if she’s following a vein. There’s a certain melancholy in her movements, a strong belief that her words are true.

But it’s not true, because Emma thinks about birthday wishes and sleepy towns. She thinks about magic and sleeping curses and _ our son _ . She thinks about _ I’m sorry _ to _ my gift to you _ to _ maybe I need you, _and she knows that she’d fallen way before she cared to admit. And she grabs Regina with both her hands and locks her gaze on brown eyes.

“People change, Regina, people change all the time. But if there’s one thing that’s never changed, it’s my love for you.”

She pulls Regina in, and this time she’s not stopped from kissing her. It feels like home—it always feels like home—but it also feels like universes aligning and slotting into place. All the fractures and tiny little pieces of her mind and heart piecing themselves together as she loses herself in the taste and feel of Regina’s mouth, their tongues tangling, their lips melding. Her mind is blank, save for the explosions of emotion that erupt inside. Her heartbeat is loud enough in her ears that she can’t tell if she’s hearing the fireworks in her mind or outside the Ferris wheel, but it aptly describe how she’s feeling regardless. 

She feels like her nerves are fraying at the ends, burning at the passion she feels, and she moves both her hands until she’s caressing a smooth jaw. She traces soft ears and sculpted cheekbones, but she feels the wetness against them and leans back in confusion. 

“You’re crying.” She wipes at Regina’s tears with her thumb, but it doesn’t even begin to stem the flow. Regina looks at her with red eyes, and the pain hits sharply in her gut. She doesn’t understand. “Why?”

Regina grabs at her hand and pulls back, bringing her attention back to her journal. It’s open now in her lap, the words shifting and moving, and she squints, trying to read the words. The black ink, her own words, thoughts, feelings, bounce around on the page until they rearrange into something she can finally see.

She looks up at Regina, who’s watching her carefully, expectantly, a tinge of fear in her eyes, and Emma is confused. She looks into dark brown eyes, trying to decipher the emotions behind them as she sounds out the words. “Dark… One…?”

A sickening sound of metal puncturing through flesh fills the air, and Regina’s eyes go wide. She gurgles and blood, thick and red and _ dark, _ overflows from her mouth. Emma gasps.

“Wha-” Emma looks down, and sees a knife embedded in Regina’s heart. Her hand that was holding the journal now holds the handle of the knife and she realizes:

She did this.

Emma lets go of the knife in a panic, and Regina falls against her. Emma curses and says a lot of incoherent words, but she wraps her arms around the other woman and cries.

“I don’t understand,” she sobs into Regina’s shoulder, “is this a nightmare?” Because it must be, there’s no other explanation. But it feels far too real for a nightmare, the smell of blood fresh and repulsive. She presses against the wound, attempting to stop the bleeding, but she knows it’s futile. She doesn’t understand, doesn’t want to understand.

In no reality can she imagine herself killing Regina. Out of all the ways she has seen her die, she would never expect herself to be one of the causes.

Regina wheezes in her ear, and Emma rubs circles on her back. “Come back to me, please, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I don’t know what happened.”

“Re… mem… ber,” Regina breathily exhales. Emma pulls back, watching as the light leaves Regina’s eyes, and she screams. Screams and pulls Regina back to her, hugging her body and never wanting to let it go.

She doesn’t feel her magic bubbling this time. Normally she’d leave, find another Regina, but it’s not happening this time. “Why?! Let me leave! I don’t want this!” she yells upward. The carriage is gone; she can see nothing but the night sky.

She’s no longer in the Ferris wheel. She’s surrounded by darkness once again, Regina still leaning against her, but she knows the residual heat she feels is a lie. There’s a slow bloom off in the distance, and she watches as the sky goes from black to blue to white. A white she’s familiar with, the white of her magic.

Then her whole vision is shrouded in bright light. Her eyes close as she tries to adjust to the sudden change of light. She feels Regina’s body shift and quickly opens her eyes again to watch as Regina disappears in her arms, fading away into ashes.

“No!”

She reaches out and tries to grab any remaining pieces she can hold onto, but it all slips through her fingers and floats away.

She hears a soft thud in front of her when Regina disappears, an item in her place. She looks down, her eyes widening when she realizes the knife she just stabbed Regina with is left behind. It’s familiar, its blade wavy, and she reaches out for it, hearing hissing whispers the closer her hand gets to it. The whispers sound familiar; they also make her stomach drop, but she picks up the handle of the knife anyway, lifting it up so she can look at it properly.

There’s no blood on it, the blade completely clean; you wouldn’t have thought it was used only moments ago. She runs her finger along the flat side of the knife. It’s so peculiar, wavy and dark, and there’s an engraving here just like on the sword.

_ Emma Swan _

Shit-

* * *

_ She sees Regina taken by the swirl of darkness and she can’t, she can’t lose Regina. _

_ “I-” _

_ She watches as Regina’s soulmate runs at the darkness, only to be pushed back, and she stares at the dagger in her hand. _

_ She knows what she has to do. _

_ Regina can see what she’s planning as well. “No! There has to be another way!” _

_ “There isn’t,” she says, her eyes beginning to tear. “You’ve worked too hard to have your happiness destroyed.” She thrusts the dagger into the swirl, commanding it to tether itself to her instead, leaving Regina alone, keeping her safe. It takes her, eating away at her soul, whispering how it will destroy her. _

_ The last thing she sees before she’s taken away is the horrified look on Regina’s face. _

  
  


_ When she wakes up again, she’s in a foreign place, a forest with clear air and bright skies, but her heart feels heavy with blackness. Her head is filled with voices, demanding that she destroy, that she kill, that she feed the darkness and gain more power. It hurts, and she can feel a part of herself fighting against it. Gold, who is apparently a figment of her imagination, manages to convince her to use magic, and she feels the war inside her tilt in favour of the darkness. She has to stop. _

_ Her family manages to find her and Regina looks at her with concern but also confusion and she doesn’t want their eyes to meet anymore because she doesn’t want Regina to find the answers. There’s no one else she can trust with the dagger though, and when it’s passed back to her, she feels those voices even louder than before, ordering her to take the dagger and all her family’s lives with it. So she gives the dagger to Regina and her heart burns as Regina’s hand wraps around the handle. _

_ There’s a look in brown eyes, a look filled with a plan and hope, and Emma doesn’t know if she’ll like the plan. _

_ She finds out about Merlin and how freeing him might break her out of the curse.They traipse through the woods, Regina glancing at her every once in awhile. She tries to ignore it, tries to even put Robin in the way so as to remind Regina why she sacrificed herself in the first place. But it’s almost as if Regina completely forgets her own soulmate and her attention is solely on Emma. _

_ They stumble upon Arthur and are invited to his castle; they find Merlin the Tree. The light of hope dims a little in Regina’s eyes but it’s still there, a small fire. _

_ Killian is all over Emma for the next few days, and she can’t stand it. She feels suffocated and she doesn’t want to listen to what the darkness has to say to that. He talks about how good she is, not knowing anything about her past, not caring to even hear it, and she has to step outside. Away from Killian, away from searching for a solution to free Merlin. And she doesn’t see that Regina follows her. _

_ “Emma,” Regina calls out to her when they’re out in the forest alone. “Emma, wait.” _

_ She turns and is momentarily transfixed at the way Regina’s dress swishes behind her. Regina has changed from her mayoral blazer to a beautiful red silk dress, and Emma wants to run a hand down the material, the urge strong, the voices not helping. _

_ She turns away instead, staring down at a nearby well, seeing how deep it goes. “What do you want?” _

_ “I-” Regina hesitates, and Emma hates it when the other woman has to hold back. They built their relationship on never holding back from one another, so she hates how careful everyone is around her. Always so careful, also tiptoeing around her as if she’ll suddenly grow scales and murder everyone. “I need to know, why did you save me?” _

_ She stiffens. Figures, that this would be at the forefront of Regina’s mind. “I told you already,” she sniffs, not wanting to give more than she intends. “I didn’t want all your hard work to be wasted.” _

_ She doesn’t want to mention that part of the reason why she saved Regina was because she wanted the power to protect her, to protect her family. There’s so many big bads and Gold was such a variable that with Emma in power, she will at least know where that power is being allocated. As long as she’s careful, she can keep the darkness at bay. _

_ And as the Saviour, she floundered, stumbled her way into a solution each and every time, but her feeling of helplessness never disappeared. She hated the feeling of not being enough, of not being strong enough to save her family when they needed her most. As the Dark One, she could’ve stopped Henry from being kidnapped, found Regina before she was strapped down and electrocuted, made it so it was unnecessary for Regina to act as an insider with the Queens of Darkness. She also doesn’t want to say that she’s afraid, afraid that if she loses the curse, it’ll go to someone else—go to Regina—and all her efforts will be wasted. _

_ In the end, it comes back to Regina. Emma just knows that the other woman would blame herself for Emma’s thoughts and feelings even. Because the depth of her feelings for Regina is something she’s kept a close secret, even from herself. It’s something she never wanted to realize, never wanted to touch upon because Regina already has a soulmate; she doesn’t need Emma trailing behind her like a lost puppy. She herself has—had—a boyfriend, and they were both happy. _

_ At least, she thought she was. _

_ “That’s another wall, Emma,” Regina insists, and Emma shakes her head, wondering if everyone would be better off if she was trapped down a well or something. _

_ A fitting end for a Saviour, really, forever trapped in a last act of self sacrifice. Maybe then will she never have to see Regina happy with Robin ever again. _

_ She feels a hand on her shoulder, and she’s pulled back to face Regina. Crap. Regina’s eyes are searching, and Emma knows she sees something because Regina shakes her head. _

_ “Leave me alone, Regina!” _

_ But the other woman simply raises her dagger, a determined set in her jaw, and Emma looks at the dagger with wide eyes. _

_ “You wouldn’t-” _

_ “Emma Swan, I command you to tell me why you took in the darkness.” Regina’s voice wavers, and Emma can tell how much she hates forcing the answer out like this. That doesn’t stop the fact that Emma feels a little betrayed. _

_ She grits her teeth, trying to hold in the words her mouth longs to say. “You don’t want to hear the answer,” she spits out, “don’t make me.” _

_ There’s tears in Regina’s eyes now and she pleads with them, but she lowers the dagger. Emma relaxes, knowing that Regina only impulsively used the dagger and wouldn’t truly force anything. _

_ “I-” Regina looks down at the dirt floor and wrings her wrists, careful not to nick herself with the weapon in her hand. “Seeing you like this, angry and dark, and knowing I caused this makes me-” _

_ “Don’t,” Emma snarls and walks right up to the other woman. Regina snaps her head up in surprise at her tone. “Don’t you dare say you feel guilty. This was my decision, I wanted to do this.” Regina looks at her with a foreign emotion and Emma startles when she feels a hand caress her cheek. _

_ “It does make me feel guilty, but it also- I feel-” She watches as Regina visibly gulps. A rush of _ maybe, _ and _ hope_, fills her lungs as she holds her breath in anticipation. “I realize that I don’t know what I would do without you.” _

_ Emma only lets out a tiny breath but steps closer, watching the way Regina’s breath hitches, and she yearns. “What does that mean?” _

_ Regina’s eyes dart down, then up, as she bites her lip. “I can’t believe you would take the darkness for me.” _

_ “I would do anything for you,” she says nonchalantly. “Now, tell me what you mean.” _

_ At this point they’re breathing in the same air, faces inches away from each other, and she’s so close she can feel the heat from the other woman. She can see Regina hesitate, so she cajoles with a, “Regina, please.” _

_ And Regina breathes out with a resigned sigh as she closes her eyes. Emma’s so close, she can count each eyelash. “I realized when you disappeared, when you saved me, that I love you, you self-sacrificing idiot.” _

_ Light fills her, fills her lungs, fills her entire being. She’s never felt so happy in her life. And she doesn’t mean to, but her happiness overflows and she’s leaning forward, pressing her lips against soft, plump ones. She feels a hand come up, tangling in her hair. _

_ She feels love and magic spread from their joined lips, ready to spread to her entire being… and the darkness inside her coils and hisses. _

** _Choose power_ **

_ It screams, and she pulls back in a panic. She watches in horror as Regina’s eyes flutter open, and there’s confusion quickly colouring with hurt in brown eyes. _

_ “Emma?” _

_ “I can’t.” She shakes her head, still feeling the tingle of magic on her lips and the residual effect of the curse almost breaking. “I can’t,” she repeats as if just the two words are enough of a reason for rejecting Regina. “I- I’m with Killian.” And they both know that was a flimsy excuse at best. She never cared for him, neither of them did, but she can’t tell Regina that she’s not ready to let go, not ready to release the immense power coursing through her veins. _

_ The flash of hurt is clear in her eyes now. “I see,” Regina throatily answers, an underlying anger hidden in her tone. “Forget what I’ve said then.” She swiftly turns around and Emma panics, not liking the image of Regina leaving so abruptly. _

_ “Regina!” _

_ She stills but doesn’t turn, and Emma wants to see her face, needs to read it and know. _

_ “A- are we okay?” she stammers, fearing the set in Regina’s shoulders as soon as she asks. _

_ And then Regina turns, tears silently streaming down flushed cheeks. Emma’s heart breaks at the sight. _

_ “No, Emma, we’re not.” _

_ Regina flees, and Emma can’t bring herself to stop her. _

  
  


_ They research as if nothing happens, or they try to. But she’s well aware that everyone around them has noticed the tension between her and Regina. They talk to her as if she’s a landmine waiting to explode, and it makes the voices in her head louder, angrier. _

_ They find the ingredient list to free Merlin, and Arthur shows them Excalibur, but their work is far from done. _

_ Regina scowls and glares when they speak, as if being spoken to is a chore, and Emma knows Regina’s lashing out in defense, not wanting to show how hurt she actually is. But that doesn’t stop it from hurting, doesn’t stop the pain of knowing that all their progress together evaporated just like that. One simple mistake, and they go from best friends to strangers. _

_ “Was it a mistake though?” _

_ Killian asks as he breathes down her neck; he’s been a thorn in her side since the very beginning, but ever since becoming the Dark One, she feels the irritation much more acutely. Being around him calms the darkness for some reason, makes it simmer in wait, growing stronger within her, and she knows that’s an issue. _

_ He takes her on horseback, making her pick flowers and putting them in her hair as if she’s some dainty princess, and she scoffs_ _—he doesn’t know anything about her. She plays along though, half because the darkness wants to, and half because Killian is still showing her affection, however much she doesn’t want it. It’s in the middle of their outing when she feels a prickling in the back of her neck, the hairs on her skin standing up, and she senses someone trying to kill her. _

_ She’s not worried, however. She’s darkness and power, and she knows that nothing can kill her, so she ignores it. Let them shoot. _

_ But Killian also notices, and out of stupidity, he moves in the way of the arrow aimed at her heart. He gets hit instead, and he falls, a strong dose of nightshade spreading through his blood. Out of guilt—pity, maybe—she uses Excalibur, a blade she stole in the middle of the night, curious when she heard the familiar voices when she was near the legendary sword just like her dagger. She tethers Hook to it. Swirls of darkness, of hate, of anger, manifest and tie Killian’s body to the blade, his name now engraved onto the metal, evidence of his lost humanity. _

_ He’s angry, of course he is, the idea of becoming the one thing he hates most making him shed all his false smiles and fake goodness. He berates her, calling her the worst things possible, using all her weaknesses against her. If she were still just Emma Swan and not the Dark One, she would’ve cared much more, but the sword is in her grasp and he is nothing but a puppet to her now. _

_ So he follows her around, breathing down her neck, annoying her with little quips, and she considers tossing him down the well she saw before. _

** _He might still be useful_ **

_ The darkness whispers in her ear, and she sees the logic in it. She keeps him around, and her parents find nothing suspicious about the way he clings to her, but Regina’s anger flares. _

_ “Did I really mean nothing to you?” _

_ Emma frowns at the way Regina had burst into her room and now looms over her lying form. She doesn’t need to sleep, but she likes to give off the illusion that she is. She can tell it makes everyone around her much more comfortable. _

_ “What are you talking about? Regina, you know I will always care about you.” _

_ Regina snarls, and Emma has to sit up if she wants to have a proper conversation. “Certainly doesn’t seem like it when I confess my feelings and you turn around to let your pirate paw all over you like some trophy.” _

_ “He doesn’t paw at me,” she mumbles, and the flash in Regina’s eyes tells her that was the wrong thing to say. Emma holds up her hands in deference. “Look, I’m sorry if you think I’m trying to rub my relationship in your face, but you don’t want me.” She gestures to herself, and Regina’s eyes soften a bit. Emma hates that she feels relief from that, hates that so much of Regina’s emotions affect her own tumultuous ones. “I’m weak, a-and the Dark One, and you have a soulmate, someone who’s good for you, unlike me.” _

_ Regina frowns, her eyes searching again. “You sound like you want me.” _

_ “I-” _ I do. “ _ I’m not ready.” The darkness wars inside her again, roaring and loud and demanding that she destroy Regina. It frightens the darkness that Regina’s someone who could potentially get rid of it, and it frightens the light that Regina could potentially die from being too close. In the end, she can’t choose Regina, not until she’s safe, not until she has the power to control the darkness. _

  
  


_ They manage to free Merlin, and he tells them all that there’s a cure. Tells them all that, while the darkness can never disappear, they can try to tether it to something else, something that will no longer harm them. He tells them the details for the tethering spell he created when he fought against Nimue: _

The first requisite for being the

arbiter of physical transformation is

thorough qualitative and

quantitative understanding of the

consternation of the blade, the

first party.

This must be repeated in

honor of the second, sentient party.

Once this has been achieved these

subtle energies may be entwined.

To bind two disparate phenomena.

To make them one in an act of

diabolic synergy.

Speaketh the following incantation:

'He who will wield

this dread blade

Shall be fast held to it its purpose.

The kind who cleft thee so

in twain I held in thrall,

their name be graven.'

_ But it’s a rush against time as Arthur turns out differently than his fictional counterpart—who knew—and causes a huge fight between him and Merlin, and all of Emma’s plans start unraveling one by one. _

_ “Henry-” she starts, but Regina steps in her way, and she shrivels at the look of pure anger and betrayal. “Henry, I’m sorry.” _

_ She moves her head and sees her son over Regina’s shoulder, and he sniffs, not willing to look at her. _

_ “I don’t forgive you, Ma, not right now. Especially not after what you did to Violet.” And that’s the kicker; in order to get the final ingredient for freeing Merlin, she sacrificed Henry’s heart, his first love, and broke it for her own gains. She justified it with the idea of ‘what’s a little heartbreak compared to saving a person’s life?’ Apparently it’s worth her son’s love, and she hears the darkness laughing and mocking her. _

_ “Henry, please, I-” she tries to reason with him again, “it was for a good cau-” But then she’s pushed back by an angry Regina, a mother scorned. _

_ “Don’t, Miss Swan. Don’t you dare stand there and tell Henry that his heartbreak was worth it.” _

_ “Regina, please.” _

_ Regina pushes her back even more, shoving her until she can’t see Henry anymore. “You’re lucky I know this isn’t you right now, Miss Swan, otherwise I would make sure you never came near my son or I, ever again.” _

_ She bites her lip but is unable to hold in the whimper of, “Our son.” _

_ “No,” Regina’s eyes flash menacingly, “he’s _ my _ son until you start remembering how to be a parent again.” _

_ It doesn’t take long for her to see Regina run back into Robin’s arms, his thick hairy arms, as Regina sobs into his shoulder. He turns his head and presses a kiss into her hair, supposedly whispering comforting words, and heat flares, blinding Emma in red. _

_ She stalks over. They spring apart when she approaches, and she grins, easily overtaking him and grabbing him by the throat. Robin is a thin little man, weak and insignificant and not worthy of her Queen, not worthy of even an ounce of Regina’s attention. And how dare he touch what is hers. How dare he try to make a claim on who is so rightfully hers. Because Regina is _ ** _hers._ **

Mine. **Mine.**

_ “Emma! Stop!” _

_ She doesn’t stop though. The voice is familiar in her ears, but not enough for the red coating her sight to subside. She feels a tug against her arm, but it’s a feeble tug and she’s strong, far too strong to be stopped. She watches gleefully as Robin fights and struggles in her hand, clawing and prying at the fingers wrapped around his tiny little neck. And she watches as his face turns blue, as he chokes and foams at the mouth. _

_ She feels his insignificant heartbeat slow to a stop, and his eyes roll to the back of his head. She laughs, cackles even, releasing her hand and dropping him like trash on the ground. _

_ Slap! _

_ Her face turns to the side and it doesn’t hurt, but she’s startled by the impact. She turns and sees Regina, her eyes puffy red and angry, so angry. There’s a fire in her eyes that Emma’s never seen before, even during that time when they punched each other in the face, their height of anger and emotions. _

_ “Leave!” Regina screams, and she blinks out of her trance, staring at the woman before her and the man crumpled on the ground. _

_ “Regina, I-” _

_ “I said leave!” _

_ She backs away, nearly tripping over her own feet. She doesn’t understand how she could just lose herself like that. How she could cold-bloodedly murder Regina’s soulmate as if it was nothing. She thought she was happy for Regina, wanted her to have someone good when Emma’s so obviously out of the picture. She said she wasn’t ready, and she still feels that way, but she remembers the jealousy, the claim over Regina’s body as if she was property, and it brings bile up her throat. _

_ “There’s something wrong with me,” she mumbles, and she goes to find Merlin. If there’s anyone that can help her, it must be Merlin. But from the people she expects help from the most, she receives nothing but betrayal, because Merlin captures her as soon as she enters Granny’s, waving the completed Excalibur around as if it means something to her. _

_ She’s tied up and cuffed by magic, and she’s furious. “You!” Merlin walks near and she lunges forward, wanting to grab him, wanting to throttle him, wanting to destroy him. But she’s pulled back by her restraints, and she growls. “You betrayed me!” _

_ And he’s always so infuriatingly calm, even in this instance as he looks at her solemnly. “I’m sorry, Emma, this is the only way.” _

_ “You said you could cure me!” she screams. _

_ He shakes his head sadly, raising the sword slowly. “There is no cure.” _

_ Her parents are there too, witnessing the way she screams and growls, not even bothering to help, the useless people that they are. Of course if their daughter is anything but perfect, they couldn’t care less and can very easily throw her away once again. _

_ Merlin waves Excalibur, chanting an incantation, a spell that he told them when they freed him, and she realizes: He’s trying to tether her to the entire sword. Excalibur merged with the dagger has enough power to contain the Dark One. _

_ What he didn’t know was that someone was already attached to the blade. Killian is quickly summoned, lunging with a rapier right when Merlin is the most vulnerable in the incantation and puncturing his lungs. Merlin is dead; even his immortality could not save him. Killian laughs maliciously and takes Excalibur from Merlin’s dead hands. _

_ “Swan.” He grins at her, and it sends a chill down her back. She doesn’t know how she ever managed to tolerate such a smarmy grin for so long. “Lucky me, you’re in my favourite position already.” He lightly taps the end of his rapier along her arms, her legs, her waist. She snarls at him, but he only laughs more. “Poor little orphan Swan, no one loves you, not even mommy and daddy are willing to risk their lives for you.” _

_ She grits her teeth. His words sting, striking her heart and itching her skin, but she has one chance, so she decides to take it. “Mom, Dad, if you’re in any way useful at all, let me out of here now before he kills us all!” They glance at each other, sharing a look, and she can’t believe they have to decide who the greater evil is in this scenario. _

_ David finally scrambles to move, confronting Killian and distracting him in a fight while Mary Margaret goes and unties her. As soon as she feels the surge of magic return to her veins, she releases a blast towards Killian’s side, knocking Excalibur out of his belt, and they both lunge for it. She manages to reach it before he can, and she swings the sword, pointing it towards the other Dark One as he’s still running. _

_ There’s a soft crunch, and she blinks, realizing that she made Killian run right into Excalibur. He sneers at her one last time before his body goes limp on the sword. Darkness explodes out of his body and circles around her instead. _

_ Her mom gasps off on the side. Emma sees that she’s dragged Regina into the uprooted diner during the fight, and of course they’re all going to just stand there as she absorbs more darkness. She was expecting a lengthy swirl around her body as the darkness slithers under her skin, but her body sucks in the darkness instead, a much quicker process as her heart has supposedly turned dark enough to be home to it. _

_ She blinks, feeling fine, the sword in her hand no longer a sword but reverted back to its dagger form now. It feels like everything’s better, feels like she just overcame an ordeal. She beat Killian who was a Dark One and she feels great. But when she takes a step towards her family, wanting to tell them the good news, they all cautiously step back, and that hurts. Don’t they see that that hurts? _

_ “Ma?” She spins around completely and sees Henry and Violet coming into the diner from the back. He stares at her like she’s some stranger. _

_ “Henry,” she breathes. She takes a small step forward towards her son but is stopped by a plume of purple smoke appearing right in front of her. “Regina!” _

_ She’s confused at the way they’re all staring at her. She feels fine, perfect even, and c’mon! She beat another Dark One! That just shows she’s good and without Killian and without Robin… “Regina, there’s no longer anyone in our way, we can be together now!” Emma reaches out and caresses Regina’s jaw, pointedly ignoring the way the other woman stiffens under her hand. “I’m sorry for not choosing you before, but I’m ready to choose you now, Regina, I love you.” She grins and leans forward, wanting to claim the other woman, wanting her whole family to see that they’re together, but she’s pushed back before she even gets remotely close to Regina. _

_ Regina stares at her, her eyes hard and unyielding. They’re also a little watery, but Regina’s trying valiantly to keep the tears at bay. “I can’t believe you of all people would try to manipulate me.” There’s hurt and betrayal in her husky voice; there’s even a tinge of resignation, and Emma doesn’t understand. _

_ The darkness rumbles inside of her, bubbling under her skin, ready to be released, and she has to control herself. “What do you mean ‘manipulate’? Regina, I’m not trying to manipulate anyone right now.” _

_ Regina shakes her head, staring at her in dismay. “You don’t even realize it then.” She pulls the hand on her jaw down and sighs. “I’m sorry, Emma. We can’t be together, not like this, not when the darkness has already eaten away at your soul.” _

_ “What?” Her head buzzes, all of Regina’s words sounding muffled, and she feels dizzy. Did Regina just reject her? After all they’ve been through? After Regina claiming she loved her? Was Regina just playing with her feelings then? She can’t imagine herself with anyone but Regina. She took this curse for her; Regina was everything to her. She doesn’t understand. She doesn’t understand. She doesn’t understand she doesn’t understand she doesn’t understand she doesn’t understandshedoesn’t understandshedoesn’tunderstandshedoesn’tunderstandshedoesn’tunderstandshedoesn’tunderstandshedoesn’tunderstandshedoesn’tunderstandshedoesn’tunderstandshedoesn’tunderstandshedoesn’tunderstandshedoesn’tunderstandshedoesn’tunderstandshedoesn’tunderstandshedoesn’tunderstandshedoesn’tun- _

** _If she can’t have her, no one can._ **

_ A sickening crunch. She gasps, looks down… and sees her dagger piercing Regina’s heart. _

_ Regina looks at her with wide eyes, never having imagined Emma could ever hurt her. She croaks out, “W-why…?” _

_ She sees Regina, _she sees her wife, she sees the Sheriff Regina, she sees young Regina, she sees the Evil Queen.

_ “Mom!” Hearing Henry scream for his mom until his voice goes hoarse made her realize just how big of a mistake she’s made. She steps back in fear, making the mistake of ripping out the blade, as Henry runs over to Regina’s body, blood blooming from the hole in her heart. Emma spins and sees her parents staring at her warily, weapons unsheathed and aiming at her; she shakes her head. _

_ “No, no, it wasn’t me! It wasn’t me!” She turns back and Henry’s looking up at her with loathing and no, not her family, anyone can hate her but her family. “It wasn’t me,” she whispers at him, but her son ignores her and goes back to cradling Regina’s body. _

_ Regina’s cold dead eyes stare up at her unblinkingly, and Emma stares back, unable to look away. “I’ll fix it,” she says to her. She feels her magic, _ her _ magic and not the Dark One’s magic, breaking from the small corner of her mind the darkness has pushed it to. She feels her love for Henry, her love for her parents, her love for Regina power her magic, and in a moment of clarity, she knows what she has to do. _

_ “I will fix everything. _

* * *

She laughs when she comes to again, laughs and cries, because there’s only two things she can do and she decides to do both.

Everything was a lie. Her life for the past few years was a complete lie, and it’s a lie she made herself. She’s not married to Regina; they don’t have a happy life together, because she’s a monster, and she destroyed her own happiness. She’s a horrible monster that can do nothing but kill the woman she loves over and over again because she can’t let go.

_ “Emma_.”

She laughs again, the sound wheezing out of her lungs. Because of course she’s here.

“Go away, I already know you’re not real.” Regina only looks at her sadly, and she hates it, hates the pity. She hates pity in general, but she doesn’t even deserve this pity. She’s the one who did this to herself. “I’ve been looking for you all this time,” she croaks, “when you’ve been by my side the entire time.”

But in the end, who was she really looking for? Regina is dead and her magic—her inherent magic, good to a fault and built on love—created a reality where she wasn’t. Emma’s been searching, meeting the Mayor, the Saviour, the Innocent, the Evil Queen. She’s been trying to find her, _ her _ Regina, searching for a Regina through the fragments of her memories.

“It’s just my luck, isn’t it? That the one person I truly fall in love with, I kill them with my own hands.” She thinks about Regina and Daniel, and a devastation that caused a curse to be cast over the entire realm. “We’re two sides of the same coin sometimes.”

And she had a choice, didn't she? She loved Regina then, but was too afraid to admit it, too afraid to let go of the safety of her new powers, too afraid to go back to just Emma. She chose to keep her powers instead, opting to make the same mistake as Gold and all the Dark Ones before her, trying to have her cake and eat it too.

“I’d choose differently now, you know?” She thinks about love, and marriage, and domesticity. She thinks about Henry and his stories, watching him grow and be happy, everything she wanted when she gave him away. She thinks about Regina and her constant disquiet. Emma wants to be there for her whenever she doubts, be there and _ stay_, and she wants them both to watch proudly over the wonderful person Henry has grown into. She’d choose different now. She’d choose Regina.

She looks around her and she’s in some sort of void of white. “This must be my magic, huh,” she says loudly to herself. Regina’s there, still staring at her, and it’s weird to stay in silence. “This whole thing has been created by my magic, this fake life, this charade.”

She’s still kneeling, and she looks up at her not-wife, her never-wife. Their marriage was false, and she hangs her head in shame at forcing any version of Regina into a marriage. “I’m sorry. This is all my fault.”

The figment of her imagination kneels down as well until they’re at the same eye level. Regina brushes her hand lightly against Emma’s cheek, and it’s not a solid feeling but a fleeting one. She has to bite her lip in order to not lean into it, because Regina’s not real. This Regina is just someone created from her mind, her magic.

“What a mess,” she chuckles as she breaks eye contact with her hallucination. She picks up the dagger before her and traces her name engraved on it—god, she wishes she could remove it. Her own name stares up at her mockingly. “Some Saviour I was, huh? Gold was a slimy bastard, but at least he never tried to kill Belle.”

And that’s the thing, isn’t it? Regina was such a threat to the darkness that it either wanted to absorb her or kill her, and Emma, who was too weak, could not protect Regina from either. Then her magic, activated by panic, quickly created a reality where Regina was still alive because the reality of her being gone was too devastating. That happiness was short-lived, however, because the light and dark inside of her were constantly warring and the darkness would shatter the happiness, breaking it apart bit by bit.

The darkness showed her the depressing reality while the light showed her a happy illusion, and the war between the two kept making and destroying these realities, with Emma trying to navigate through it all.

“I was the problem.” She thinks about Regina dying over and over again in her arms; she thinks about the way she fell for each and every one of them and how the darkness quickly tried to break her happiness.

“I’ve been the problem all this time. It was me, not Regina, who’s been under a curse.” She looks up back to Regina, back to her hallucination, and she smiles at the panic in brown eyes. “I know how to fix this.”

_ “No!” _

When Emma stands up, Regina scrambles up with her and she pleads, _ “There has to be another way, we can still save you!” _

She lets out a watery laugh. There is no saving her from this. In fact, she doesn’t know if she wants to be saved. She really made one hell of a fine mess out of all this, more so than any Dark One. They mock her now; her mind fills with insults, reminding her that she’s incompetent and how if she were stronger, none of this would have happened. She’s not going to listen to the darkness anymore, though. The darkness was what forced her to kill the one person who would have undone the curse.

She wryly smiles down at her name on the dagger. This is the end, then.

And when she looks back up, she’s no longer in a void. She’s in a beautiful church adorned with lilac banners and white lilies, the sun shining softly from stained windows. She blinks, looking around the church, noticing that she’s standing on the podium, a crowd of teary-eyed participants smiling up at her. She sees the bridesmaids, two sets of them, and she sees Archie in white robes and his ginger hair peeking out of a large bishop hat.

Then she turns to look in front of her, and her breath is taken away from the sight.

Regina stands there, smiling softly at her, the type of smile where the skin crinkles at her eyes and it’s beautiful, she’s beautiful. Regina’s always looked good in corset dresses; in her Evil Queen days, she would wear dark dresses to intimidate, to entice, to show the world how angry she was. But this time, she’s wearing a white dress to signify that she’s changed, that she’s happy now. That she hasn’t forgotten her days as Queen, but that the Queen can be happy too.

The white cloth has silver beads embroidered into it. They sparkle under the shining sunlight, making Regina look absolutely breathtaking and almost angelic.

Emma sees their held hands and wants to pull Regina in and kiss her; she wants to proclaim her love in every way possible. Regina must see it because her smile goes wider and she shakes her head, making Emma grin at her goofily.

“Dearly beloved,” Archie interrupts their silent communication, and she must have jumped because she can hear some people laugh in the crowd. “We are gathered here today, in the presence of these witnesses, to join Emma and Regina in holy matrimony.”

“About time!” Leroy shouts.

“Yeah!” Ruby follows suit, and there’s more chuckles in the crowd.

If possible, Regina looks at her with even more love now, and her grin goes wider.

"Regina, will you take this woman to be your wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?"

Regina’s eyes water, and Emma feels her hand tremble in hers. She squeezes it in reassurance and feels a strong grip back.

“I do.”

There’s cheering in the crowd and Regina lets out a watery laugh, beaming at Emma with affection as it takes about five minutes for the crowd to quiet down again.

"Emma,” Archie clears his throat and Emma clutches at Regina’s hand in nervousness, “will you take this woman to be your wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?"

She smiles at the beautiful woman before her. She was the mother of her son, a person who understood her well, her best friend. They could’ve been True Loves, who knows.

She breaks eye contact from Regina and glances around, seeing her parents, her son, her friends, the town. They’re all sitting there, looking up at her expectantly, and she can feel the town’s happiness. She feels happy knowing that her family will be fine.

Well, she should be happy.

No, she _ is _happy.

Yeah, this was enough, she had her time. Her life was full of screw-ups and mistakes and she had more downs than ups, but those ups were worth it. Meeting her parents, meeting her son, meeting Regina was all worth it.

She’s crying now. When she turns back to Regina, she sees her watching her, waiting patiently, and she laughs. They’re all puppets here—another illusion of hers, but she can make this joke of a reality into something real.

She thinks about _ my gift to you _ and she understands now. _ Until death do us part_.

“I do,” she says at last, and the illusion breaks. Fracturing around her like a crack in the mirror, and it shatters around her. The white void is back, and so is the fake Regina that’s been following her around.

_ “Emma, no!” _

She falls to the ground again, her knees braced for impact, and she has her hands wrapped around the dagger. She watches as the illusion-Regina flutters around her in a panic, not knowing what to do and she smiles at her.

“I guess I get to act as the Saviour for once.”

Regina stares at her like she doesn’t want to believe what she’s seeing, and Emma looks down at her hands, at the dagger. The dagger is impaled in her heart, and blood and darkness spurt from the wound. They flow out of her like water, flooding the area and coating the void with black.

This is it; this is how she breaks the curse. All the previous Dark Ones have been too selfish or too cowardly to take matters into their own hands, so they never figured out such a simple solution. That, and the darkness actively refuses to let them even consider suicide, the voices constantly there at the back of their brain, seducing them to gather even more power.

Well, she beat it. Probably in a way that Regina would never approve of, but Emma’s never been one to follow the rules anyway.

She feels faint. Blood must be draining from her already pale face because Regina looks at her horrified. And she thinks her love might not have been enough to save herself, but at least it will be enough to save the person she loves. She reaches out, catching the hallucination by the jaw—to Regina’s surprise, illusion and reality blending together to make her feel solid enough—and she leans forward, their lips only a whisper away.

“Find happiness, Regina.”

Their lips touch one final time, and a mixture of light and darkness shrouds them both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos to the Tethering Potion in the Once Upon a Time wiki for giving me that little recipe thing Merlin supposedly mentions without me having to go through and find the clip of him fighting Nimue or whatever. I don't have Netflix so that would've been a huge pain in the ass lol
> 
> Shoutout to soundslikehope, who wanted to EDIT the Tethering Potion recipe because it was grammatically incorrect. Sorry, Hope, I had to keep the original xD
> 
> I'll be honest, the Carnival was my favourite part to write. It was the part I was looking forward to the most because of how crazy and WHAT THE FUCK it is. You can catch a glimpse of what the inside of my brain looks like LMAO it's weird and nonsensical and kinda horror-esque.
> 
> But also, when I started this fic there were two scenes I wanted to write most. The Carnival and the Wedding. And all of it is in this chapter, making this my favourite chapter HAHA but it's also the Reveal chapter which meant I had to come up with all the bullshit before it before I got here lmao
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> Also, there's another chapter btw, in case you missed it ▼ shit's not quite done yet! Imagine if I ended it here though omg hahaha


	7. A Life

When she wakes up, there's a pain in her chest, an emptiness where her heart is, like someone yanked it out. It was a feeling she wasn't wholly unfamiliar with but it's a first for her to be unable to pinpoint the cause. She reaches into her chest just to check her heart is actually there and is surprised when it is.

She doesn't understand why she's feeling this way.

She does a good job at ignoring it however, doing her usual morning routine, then heading downstairs to cook breakfast for her son and her. But the menial tasks do not stop the feeling that something is wrong, something is missing. There’s a flash of a smile, a flash of sun, of love, of happiness. She doesn’t understand them.

"Morning, mom!"

She turns and smiles at Henry's ridiculous bedhead and goes over to smooth it out as well as kiss him on the crown of his head.

"Good morning, my little prince."

Henry looks at her curiously before nodding to the kitchen counter. "Why did you make two cups of coffee?"

Her head whips to the side and she indeed made two cups.

"Oh," she breathes out, "I guess I made a mistake."

Her son nods. "It's the morning, that happens."

She nods along with him.

* * *

She drops Henry off at school—he hugs her before he leaves when he sees her despondent mood—and heads to work, entering her office and already seeing her landline blinking with voicemails. She sighs, maybe she should consider a secretary; she doesn’t know where that thought comes from but she hears it vaguely in the back of her mind. It sounds familiar but she can’t put her finger on it, she shrugs it off though when she hears a knock on the door.

“Robin,” she says with surprise at both seeing him and the bouquet of roses.

“You work too hard,” he points out with a smile, as if starting a conversation by pointing out one of her flaws was a good idea. He steps closer, handing her the flowers and she looks at them with slight distaste. Flowers were so cliché and red roses even more so. She doesn’t feel the flutter in her heart as she suspected she should’ve and she struts around the office to find a vase to set the flowers in.

She puts the vase on the bar table near the door and fluffs them up, wondering if she can discreetly change them into something else like red lilies, or dahlias. The image of white lilies flash in her mind and she frowns, not knowing where that piece of memory originates from. It’s silent and she turns to him when she realizes he’s waiting for her to acknowledge him. “I wasn’t expecting you,” she just says instead.

“I missed you,” he says with his signature smile that looks more like a smirk and it’s not nearly as attractive as he thinks he is, the scruff on his face stretching and contorting with the smile. He leans over for a kiss but she stops him with a hand on his chest.

He looks at her confused, but something about this doesn’t feel right. That feeling of emptiness comes back and she narrows her eyes at him.

“I don’t think this is working out,” she says with a frown, hearing a voice in her mind asking what she’s doing, but she feels like she’s doing the right thing. “I think you should leave, actually.”

“B-but, what about _ soulmates_, what about the fact that I’m choosing _ you_, not _ like- _“

She feels a sudden flare of anger rise up from the pit of her stomach and quickly cuts him off, “Out, Robin.”

He sulks off, muttering to himself about women and she rolls her eyes as she rounds her desk and sits in her chair. She stares at the flowers sitting on the table she set them down on and she wonders if she looks like a roses ‘type of girl’ because she doesn’t feel like one. She would think someone who understands and loves her would know what kind of person she is.

Sighing and shaking her head, she starts to work, starting her day by listening to the many complaints the townspeople have as she presses the voicemail button.

* * *

At lunchtime she receives a call and she picks up her phone absentmindedly. “Hello?”

“Mom?” She hears and a smile immediately adorns her face.

“Henry, did you need something, honey?” Her son tells her that he forgot his lunch and she rolls her eyes affectionately even if he can’t see her. She gets up to leave and considers using her car, but it’s a nice day so far, so she decides to walk to the school instead.

“Regina!” Someone calls out to her when she walks by Granny’s and she turns and sees Ruby and Mulan sitting at one of the tables outside the diner.

“Miss Lucas.” Ruby makes a face but it’s all good natured. They’re not particularly good friends, but they’re friendly enough that it’s nice to greet each other when they see one another. She’s also happy that Ruby has found her happy ending, Regina’s days of wishing misfortune on everyone long gone. Mulan silently waves at her as well and she nods her head and then goes off on her way. It’s nice to be noticed and recognized even if they don’t talk.

It doesn’t take long for her to reach the school from Granny’s and Henry perks up when he sees her. She can delude herself into thinking her sweet son is just happy to see her but she knows it’s because he just wants his lunch, she inwardly laughs at how much of a teenager he is sometimes.

She swishes her hand with a flair and the lunch she made this morning that was left on the counter appears in her hand. She passes the lunch to her son and he hugs her gratefully. “Thanks Mom!” he yells before running off and she shakes her head at how quickly she’s been abandoned.

She feels a pang of something, and there’s an urge inside her that wants to share this moment. With whom, she doesn’t know, but something tells her that this is something she would mention. A flash of late night banters, hours spent speaking about her son, comes to mind and she yearns for it, doesn’t know where these thoughts are popping up from. As far as she remembers, she’s always raised Henry by herself, even while dating Robin—who has his own child—he barely interacted with Henry and she was fine with that.

It’s always been just the two of them and it’ll take time before she’s even comfortable with the idea of sharing. She thinks about the extra coffee she made in the morning and she shakes her head. No, she’s not ready or even considering sharing Henry with Robin, it was just a mistake this morning. She also broke up with him today with barely any feelings spared in the process so it must not be him.

“They grow up so fast.”

She glances to the side and sees Snow smiling as she also watches Henry interact with friends. “Yes, well,” she sighs, “maybe a little too fast. Sometimes I wish I could use a spell to keep him young.”

Snow nods in understanding and she remembers their son Neal is at the adorable age of three. She then frowns, wondering when she became so friendly with _ Snow White_, of all people.

“What age would you keep him at if you could?” Snow tilts her head and asks her and her eyebrows furrow as she considers the question.

Her mind flashes back to Henry when he was 10, and it was filled with yelling, hate, anger; it was a terrible time. But something happened then, some memory hidden there that warms her heart and she can’t connect the points in time when Henry went from screaming about the Evil Queen to claiming he loves her again.

“I-I’m unsure, I suppose the same age as your son currently.” 

Snow grins at her. “Three is a good age.”

They part when there’s nothing left for Regina to do there. She leaves feeling slightly confused at her inner turmoil, wondering why it exists and why she keeps seeing flashes of things that are not there. She keeps seeing yellow cars, blonde hair, blue-green eyes and flashes of red leather wherever she goes and she doesn’t know who she’s trying to recall.

She goes to Granny’s for her own lunch and her eyes are immediately drawn to the counter when she enters. A strong feeling of disappointment fills her when she doesn’t see a basket and she doesn’t know why.

“What’s up, Regina?”

She blinks and looks away from the counter, seeing Ruby looking at her curiously.

“Have you ever considered selling muffins, Miss Lucas?” The words roll off her tongue and she doesn’t know where the thought came from.

Ruby looks surprised. “No, but Granny’s been really into this baking show recently and she says she might try it out.”

She nods. “Well, please tell me when she does, I look forward to trying them.”

Ruby gives her a salute before she leaves and something about it warms her heart. It reminds her of goofy grins and the soft hint of bear claws.

She sees the library when she steps out of Granny’s and makes that her next stop. Belle has her nose stuck in a book as usual when she teleports in and Belle’s so used to interruptions that she only raises her eyebrow at Regina without even bothering to look away from her book.

“I have a few magic books I need to return.”

“Well it took awhile,” Belle laughs, “but at least you’re returning them. Come with me.” Regina patiently waits as Belle goes around her desk and they both step into the back. She sees the ratty little couch she’s had to sit on whenever she’s stuck researching in the library and she sees another flash of _ something_. She recalls challenging green eyes, someone surrounded by books for days. Then she recalls hands trailing down her skin and she blushes at the sudden thought.

“Something on your mind?” Belle looks at her inquisitively and she shakes her head.

“No, it’s nothing.”

She then helps Belle by magicking the books onto the ground and they both put them back on the shelves where they belong. She makes a promise to herself never to borrow so many at the same time.

* * *

For the rest of her day she spends at work, filing paperwork and watching the time until she can pick up Henry. Before she drops by the school however, she heads all the way to a farmhouse right on the outskirts of town.

It’s wooden, rickety, and looks a little run down but she knows the inside is completely different. She shakes her head and knocks on the wooden door and it squeals loudly when it opens.

“Zelena, please oil that door, it’s obnoxious each time I visit you.”

Zelena stands there with her stomach protruding proudly and she waves Regina off. “You’ll live, and it’s to deter everyone else. Next time just ‘poof’ in.

Regina frowns at the word ‘poof’, not knowing when Zelena started using the word and why it sounded so familiar. “You know it would be rude of me to just suddenly appear in your house.” She watches as her sister bustles about to make them both tea.

Zelena shrugs and flips her red hair away from her eyes. “Why not? You wanted to be family, that’s what family do—or so I’m told.”

She goes to sit down at the modern table in the middle of the dining room. The kitchen, living and dining are all in one big room so she can see Zelena from where she’s sitting. “Have you been talking to the Charmings again?” she laughs.

Her sister groans. “Listen, if it weren’t for this little green bean here, I would never spend _ 30 minutes _ talking to that insufferable woman about pregnancy tips.” Regina laughs even more and it’s nice to have family. Zelena may be a little on the crazy side, but she’s sarcastic and witty and it meshes well with her own personality. Plus with a sister at her side, she doesn’t feel like she’s going up against the entire town by herself anymore.

Regina’s also been advocating to the council about the possibility of allowing Zelena her magic back.

“Have you considered finding new friends?” she says with a grin as Zelena brings in the tea and her sister glares at her.

“Sod off! Don’t you dare imply I’m friends with that Princess!” Zelena nudges her roughly and she laughs. “And speak for yourself! I see you being friendly with that werewolf but you never hang out with her or her girlfriend.”

Regina grimaces and looks away but her sister is already looking at her knowingly. “Regina, you can’t only hang out with your son, your sister, or your soulmate,” Zelena points out, “It’s sort of pathetic if you think about it.”

She bites her lip before deciding she should tell her sister. They’ve been trying to be honest with each other and this is something she hasn’t told anyone else yet. “Actually, Robin and I broke up.”

Green eyes go wide at the information. “You- Was it because of…” Zelena gestures to her stomach and Regina shakes her head.

“No, no, it wasn’t you, it was-” She thinks of cocky grins and sparkling blonde hair. She hears a flash of _ ‘Hey, Visible’ _ and she yearns. She doesn’t know what she’s yearning for but the deep hole in her heart hurts at the thought.

“Oh,” Zelena breathes out, sagging in relief and Regina smiles, knowing that they both want this sister relationship to work. It’s tentative at best right now but they’re trying. She’s long forgiven Zelena for the whole Robin ordeal and Zelena seems to have forgiven her for being born.

She frowns. When did they forgive each other? She doesn’t remember, it must have been something that happened along the way.

“Well, he was boring anyway. You can do better, Regina.”

She sighs, still a little unsure why she decided she needed to break up with her soulmate of all people. Maybe she just wasn’t ready for a relationship. Maybe there is something wrong with her. She just has a hard time trusting and opening up to people. There’s something in the back of her mind however, telling her that she had opened up to someone and she wishes she knew who.

“Isn’t it time for you to pick up my favourite nephew?”

“He’s your only nephew,” Regina laughs.

“Doesn’t mean he can’t be my favourite too.”

She teleports back to the office so she can pick up her car and drives over to the school. She’s there a little early so she parks and steps outside to wait, standing there thinking about what to make for dinner.

She feels a slight presence beside her, a flash of a wispy smile and adoring eyes in her mind when she turns but she doesn’t see anyone. She frowns, wondering if anyone has waited for Henry at school with her or if she’s yearning for someone to.

None of this is making sense.

The school bell rings and Henry walks out at his own pace, sticking out from the rush of the other kids leaving the school. He greets his mom with a hug when he reaches her and she smiles at how much he’s grown. He’s not the little boy that ran around in mischief and he’s not the little boy that screamed she wasn’t his real mom.

_ Emma would be proud_.

She frowns again. Who’s Emma? She doesn’t recognize the name as anyone she knows.

“Mom? You okay?” Henry looks at her a little worried when they don’t leave the parking lot and she shakes her head.

“Yes, I’m fine dear, let’s go home.”

They head home for dinner but she can’t shake the feeling that she’s missing something. When Henry runs upstairs to work on his homework, she wanders the halls. She finds herself in front of the staircase, staring at the wall of family photos she has.

Henry is in almost all of them as she never found anyone to take a photo for her until recently. She smiles as her eyes travel from one picture to the next, watching him grow as if in a timelapse, but then stops when she hits the time Henry was 10 years old. There’s no photos then and there’s only a few scattered pictures here and there when Henry is 11 onwards.

She thinks back on the painful time when Henry would scream at her, yelling about the truth of his adoption and she feels a pang in her heart every time she recalls that time. What she cannot recall, is when Henry stopped yelling.

The curse broke because-

Her magic came back and-

She shakes her head, there are blank spots in her memory and it makes her worried. Considering the amount of curses that involve memory loss, she doesn’t like the idea that there’s some villain in town fiddling with her mind again.

She informs her son that she has to go out and will be back soon and he shrugs like the teenager that he is. She embraces the surge of love and adoration whenever she interacts with her son, unable to help herself from smoothing down his hair and kissing him on the crown of his head. He obviously struggles a little with the show of affection, fine with one armed hugs but too old for kisses and she loves him so much.

She makes sure to lock the door and cast a barrier around the house before she leaves but she uses her magic to appear right in Gold’s shop.

Gold is looking over a ledger and doesn’t appear surprised when she arrives. Instead, without missing a beat, he calmly asks, “Madame Mayor, lovely to see you at this time of night, how may I help you?”

Something is different about the man but she doesn’t know what. He still has that creepy smile but it doesn’t unnerve her as much as before. Regina can’t tell if it’s because she’s just familiar with his ways now or if there’s just something that’s missing.

That’s not her current concern however and she shakes her head. “I have some holes in my memory and it’s-” She’s suddenly distracted by something in one of the glass display cases. She walks over to it and leans down to get a closer look.

“Ah, I see you’ve noticed my newest addition.” Gold gives her a knowing smile and she narrows her eyes at it, wary of that smile. She gives the item—a book maybe—one final glance before looking away, willing herself not to be distracted.

“I need your help Gold, I appear to have some missing memories.”

Gold tilts his head slightly as he considers his words. “I see, I can create a memory potion if that is what you want.”

This, not being her first transaction, immediately asks, “What’s the cost?”

He chuckles lightly. “How about you take that diary off my hands and I’ll consider us even?” And that makes her instantly suspicious of the diary.

“Why do you have it?”

“It appeared in my shop one day, but it’s useless to me as it no longer requires a master and the owner of it is not here with us.” Gold gives her a toothy smile. “Perhaps, it would be of more use to you than me.”

“What is it?”

“A collection of memories.”

Regina tries to barter with him, asking if he would accept anything else as payment but he doesn’t budge and she begrudgingly takes home the diary with her. She gravitates toward it though, her eyes unable to stop drifting towards it, and if it were not for Gold’s uncanny smile, she would have taken the diary without thinking about it twice.

But now it sits on her nightstand, having left it there so she can do her nightly routine. It’ll take a few days for the memory potion to be completed so there’s nothing much she can do in the meantime but just go through the day as if everything is normal. It does feel normal to her however, and that’s what unnerves her. No one else has noticed that something was wrong and neither would she, if it weren’t for the flashes of memory that would fill her mind every once in awhile.

She still have not opened the diary yet by the time she slides into her bed and it calls out to her. Something about it gently pushes her to grab it and she does. She flips it around in her hand, staring at the nondescript diary and unable to discern who the owner is. It’s small, smaller than most diaries, and it’s obvious it’s meant to be stuffed in a pocket. She thinks of tight jeans and clunky boots and she frowns.

Because of Gold, she’s afraid of opening it, knowing that some books activate or hold power when they’re opened. She can feel some magic in it and it’s not malicious, but it’s an odd blend of light and dark. Something about it causes a shiver down her back but also warms her to the core and the conflicting emotions she gets from it makes her wonder if opening it is a good idea.

She’s not going to get any sleep if she doesn’t open it though, there’s a nagging in her mind, a prickling at her skin, when she tries to ignore it. So she decides to take a leap and just flip it open.

Nothing happens and it seems innocuous.

Well, that was anticlimactic. She rolls her eyes at herself for being too careful and decides to read the entries, considering she’s on one of the pages now. The writer seems to be under the misconception that they’re writing in a journal and she scoffs, wondering who in the world would think this was a _ journal _ of all things.

They talk about their life and what makes them happy, a simple, domestic life that Regina can relate to. And she finds herself intrigued by the writer the more she reads. Their words hit her somewhere deep in her heart and she can’t help feeling fond for the mysterious author of this “journal”.

_ Emma, _ the author signs and she traces the name. Something about it resonates within her and she feels a surge of affection.

But then she hits a page that makes her eyes go wide and she finds herself staring at her own name.

She devours the words, flipping back and forth on the pages to see if there’s some clue and she finds Henry’s name as well. They start talking about a happy life between the three of them and her hand trembles as she continues to read. Did someone delusional write this? Was this someone she knew? They certainly knew her, some secrets and worries that she’s never revealed to anyone, written on paper.

This Emma claims to choose her, claims they would save her and she rapidly searches through her memories, looking for anyone she knew named Emma. She growls in frustration when she can’t recall but there is _ something _ in the back of her mind, shrouded in a haze.

She _ knows _ this person, she feels like she does.

And as she continues to read, about picnics and lazy mornings, she wistfully imagines the scenarios. She thinks about nice sunny days and sitting out on a picnic blanket, watching her son chase around a ball. Someone’s by her side, this _ Emma_, and they’re nothing but a white silhouette. She smiles at them though, resisting the urge to lean into their side and they both watch in contentment over their son.

_ Their _son.

She thinks of_ I’ll always choose you_, _ I saw you _ and _ Well, now you know I’m on your side. _

She thinks of a beautiful wedding, tears of happiness and a smile full of love.

She thinks of_ You’re Henry’s birth mother? _ and she gasps, memories pouring into her mind. Flashes and chunks of memories from the past 5 years unlocking, shocking her system. She clutches her head in pain as she relives the past few years in fast forward.

And then there are these odd newer memories, disjointed from everything else and she doesn’t know where to place them. She sees Emma running around in them, trying to solve a mystery she can’t ever hope to fix and she blinks, feeling a sudden weight in her lap and looking down at the diary.

The diary is gone, and in its place is a dagger, the _ Dark One _ dagger. She holds it up, turning it over but not finding a name.

_ “...it no longer requires a master and the owner of it is not here with us.” _ She thinks back on Gold’s words.

“Emma Swan,” she says in a clear voice, holding the dagger out. She didn’t know what to expect but startles when she hears a knock on her front door.

She tosses her covers to the side, and throws a robe on to quickly make her way downstairs, dagger still in hand. When she rips open the door, she expects blonde hair, a garish leather jacket and a goofy smile.

Instead she sees a full black leather outfit, gaunt cheeks, and pale white hair. But despite the sudden wardrobe change she recognizes the person.

“Emma,” she breathes out and Emma gives her a wry smile.

“So,” the other woman starts to say in the most Emma-like way, “this didn’t _ really _ work out how I expected it to?”

Emma wrings her wrists and Regina knows it’s a sign that she’s about to ramble. “I honestly didn’t think I’d still be here? I mean, with everything that’s happened I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. And honestly, I thought I somehow beat the curse, you know? Like I tricked it somehow, but nope, apparently I just tethered myself to it more. And like, when I- Oh wait, you don’t know what happened. Or do you? Actually is any of this real or am I like, dead _ dead _ and it’s like one of those purgatory things where I constantly relive some sort of reality or whatever?”

“It’s-”

“Actually, I guess it doesn’t matter, and why am I asking you? You wouldn’t know if you were some hallucination or not! But if you do know, and you are, you have to tell me, that’s the rule. It’s like when you’re in a dream and you ask ‘is this a dream?’ someone’s supposed to say ‘yes, it is’ and then you wake up. Oh shit, did I screw this all up by asking you if you’re a hallucination? Is this all going to restart again? I-”

Regina rolls her eyes and grabs the stupid idiot by the flaps of her dark leather jacket and pulls her in, kissing her unceremoniously and Emma enthusiastically kisses back.

She feels magic surge up and out of them, her body tingling with love and warmth and power and she knows that they’ve done it this time. She feels the dagger disappear from her hand and she hopes to never see it again.

“Wow,” is the first thing out of Emma’s mouth and colour begins to return back into her cheeks, she’s looking decidedly much more _Emma _ than she did a minute ago—_or it could have been a decade ago, she wasn’t exactly keeping track of the time as they kissed. _ And she can’t help but smile, running her hand through hair that’s turning from white to yellow, watching in awe as she’s wont to do when it comes to magic.

“Wait.” Emma grabs a hold of her wrist and pulls back with worry on her face. “Did we just True Love’s kiss? You still love me? After all I did? After I killed you? After the way I violated you?”

She sighs, deciding she should probably explain now before any problems—or well, _ more problems_—arise. “Why don’t you come in first? It’s cold outside and I’m not exactly fond of standing at my doorway in nothing but a robe.”

And like a moth to a flame, Emma’s head instantly snaps downward as she takes in Regina’s state of undress. Her gaze doesn’t waver and Regina smirks at the way Emma’s pupils clearly dilate. She pulls at the awful leather jacket Emma’s wearing and drags her into the house by the arm. “Go wait in the study, I’ll make us some tea.”

She leaves Emma in the foyer and starts heading to the kitchen. “Since when do you drink tea?”

“Since you gave me memories of being friends with Zelena” she says over her shoulder before she enters the kitchen. She has to take a deep breath when she’s in there, sifting through all the new information, sorting what’s real and what’s not. Everyone else must have gotten their memories back as well when they kissed and her only wish is that Zelena and her can keep their sisterly friendship.

It’s a jarring mix of familiarity and unfamiliarity when she sees Emma sitting on the couch in her study. She has memories of them spending their nights there and she has memories of that rarely ever happening. Has she wished Emma came by more often? Yes. Has she enjoyed Emma’s company whenever they quietly spent the night talking here? Of course. But insecurity and also the fact that they always kept a certain distance away from each other, stopped her from inviting Emma over too often.

“Here.”

“Oh, thank you.” She hands the cup of tea to Emma and takes a seat herself on the couch.

There’s a moment of silence as they both slowly sipped on tea and just processed the situation. “I have a billion and one questions,” Emma starts, turning her body so she’s facing Regina. “But first, I’d like to know how in the world I’m actually here.”

“Your sacrifice, and your desire to save me, must have…” Regina puts a hand over her heart. “Must have left a piece of you in me, and that must have resonated with your diary-”

“Journal,” Emma cuts in and Regina looks at her exasperated.

“Emma, it’s a diary, ask literally anyone else and they will say it’s a diary.”

“Then why did you tell me it was a pocket journal?” Emma’s jaw snaps shuts with a click as soon as she asks the question and Regina knows she’s thinking about cursed memories and illusions.

“That _ version of me_, told you it was a journal because you wouldn’t have taken it otherwise.”

“That’s-” Emma frowns, but then gives in. “Okay, you’re right. So piece of me, resonating with the journal…?” Emma throws her a grin at the last word and Regina narrows her eyes playfully.

“That _ diary _ was a containment of all your thoughts and memories while you were cursed.”

“Oh.” Emma’s eyes widen in realization. “But it’s actually the dagger.”

She smiles fondly at Emma. “Yes, it was a form your magic made it to look so you wouldn’t remember being the Dark One. You also fed it hope and love in all your entries, rewriting reality or attempting to, in order to break the darkness little by little.”

Emma looks down at her tea, hanging her head in shame. “I killed you so many times, Regina, I don’t know how you could still possibly love me.”

“Emma.” Regina reaches out and places a hand on the other woman’s, “You didn’t actually kill me. With the knife you absorbed me instead, as that was the darkness’ real goal, and you might have not been aware, but your light magic certainly was, and it used bits and pieces of me to manifest a pale imitation of myself.”

Emma opens her mouth, about to make another protest but she cuts her off. “And I was aware of everything that was happening. Despite what you think, that was all still _ me _ because magic can’t just _ create _ people, it needed a base.”

Emma frowns and thinks about it for a moment, looking into Regina’s eyes. “So, it was all you?”

Regina catches the small, insecure tone and nods, threading her fingers through Emma’s. “It was all me.”

And just like that, the annoying blonde sheriff she knows and loves is back and Emma grins at her like she just ate her favourite heart attack inducing baked good. “I love you.”

Regina laughs then. “I’m aware, dear.” She feels her heart thump at the words, not entirely used to the easy affection oozing out of the other woman. She has her memories of them being married, yes, but it’s almost like watching a movie about someone else. It’s her and yet it’s not and she doesn’t know how to reciprocate her love as easy as Emma right now. Which is ridiculous considering how they even got to this point, and it’s like their positions are reversed from Camelot. “We just had True Love’s Kiss,” she says a little in awe, everything finally hitting her.

Emma gives her a wry smile. “We did, didn’t we? _ Gross_.” Regina laughs at the way Emma makes a mock gagging noise but then Emma squeezes her hand and looks at her carefully. “What about your soulmate though? I thought he made you happy.”

“_Emma,_” Regina says with a sigh. “I never loved Robin; I can’t believe you brought him back and stuck me with him in this little _ ‘Regina must be happy _’ scenario.”

“He was good to you, okay?” Emma shrugs. “He could give you what I couldn’t and I wanted you to have the world.”

And Regina bites her lip at how easy Emma could just say that; she’s not the mushy type, and neither _ was _ Emma. Before, they were on even footing at that, navigating through their feelings like lost children, but now Emma has grown further ahead and she’s struggling to catch up. Emma must see this because she feels another squeeze in her hand and a reassuring smile.

“Take your time, Regina, as long as you’re with me, I can wait for eternity.”

Regina groans, _ loudly_. “You speak like a Charming now,” she says, horrified, “I can’t believe I love you.”

It’s a bit of a backhanded compliment, and a rather roundabout way of saying it, but the beaming smile she receives from saying those three words was well worth it. She hopes she will eventually be able to say it naturally, without hesitation, to trust that her love would never be betrayed.

“I-” she tries again but has to swallow down her fear first, she wants to say it properly at least once. “I love you.”

Emma’s grin grows wider and she brings Regina’s hand up to her mouth, kissing it in reverence. “One more time?” Emma asks cheekily and Regina shakes her head with a smile. 

“I thought you would have heard enough of that with my younger self,” she teases and Emma bursts out laughing.

There’s a sudden crash at the front door and they jolt up to their feet. Mary Margaret and David stumble into the study, at the same time a plume of green smoke appears and Zelena’s suddenly there too.

“Emma!” the Charmings scream and they rush towards them.

“Oh god,” Regina mumbles under her breath and she feels Emma shake with laughter beside her, right before Emma’s tackled by her parents.

Mary Margaret cries and David looks like he’s on the verge of crying himself, and she watches—with a slight grimace—as they get tears all over Emma’s jacket.

“I see the little Saviour is back.” She glances to the side and sees Zelena watching on as well.

“Yes, but I hope that doesn’t change things between us.” Zelena looks at her with surprise and she grins at her. “I liked having an older sister.”

She can tell that Zelena’s trying to hold in her smile. “I liked having a younger sister.”

Regina looks back at Emma and they lock eyes, Emma gives her a soft smile when they do. “You’re both disgusting.” She hears Zelena mumble beside her and she knows her sister says that out of love.

“Mom? Ma?”

She turns and sees Henry at the doorway, rubbing sleep from his eyes and still in his pajamas. She sees Emma light up when she sees their son and her heart grows two times bigger.

“Ma!” Henry yells when he realizes who’s there, rushing forward eerily similar to the Charmings.

“C’mere kid!” Emma practically lifts their son up when they hug and Regina can tell that Emma’s trying her best not to cry.

“Good luck trying to break your friendship with Snow White now,” she whispers to her sister.

Zelena groans, “Oh _ god_, this is _ awful, _ I’m never going to get that woman off my back!”

She laughs because this is her life now, this is her family. She thinks about sleeping curses and memory curses, losing each other and then finding each other, and she realizes that this is a family strong enough to beat any curse. She watches as Henry pulls away and him and Emma both turn to look at her, a pair of matching eyes staring at her with love. “C’mon, Mom! Join in!” Henry gestures to the group of accumulating huggers and Regina shakes her head in alarm.

“Yeah, Regina, join the family group hug!” Emma grins playfully and Regina narrows her eyes at her. “Zelena, you come in too!”

“No, I’m- I’m good here…” Zelena’s protests were obviously ignored and they were both pulled into the giant family group hug. She laughs, it escapes out of her lungs involuntarily; she hates that she loves this, but she would never trade her family for anything in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Cut scenes:
> 
> **At a much later time.**  
“Wait,” Emma says suddenly, bolting up from their bed, “did I just do a whole _‘I will always find you’_ thing without actually saying the words?”  
Regina groans. “_Go back to sleep, Emma._”
> 
> **At a much, much later time.**  
Regina: “By ‘tethered even more to the darkness’ what did you mean?”  
Emma: “Oh, I just meant the knife had more control over me I guess, and well, I suppose you had it, so you would’ve had more control of me. Touching it and calling my name seemed to have summoned me, from, well, wherever the hell I was staying in.”  
Regina: “Oh, so I could have asked for anything I wanted.”  
Emma: “Yeah, I guess? I was like some sort of Dark One genie or whatever. Maybe you had three wishes or something, I dunno. Wait, did you like that? Did you want to do some kinky _genie roleplay_ or something? Should I be worried about Sydney?”  
Regina: “Oh my god, _please stop_. Forget I even asked!”
> 
> * * *
> 
>   
Oh my god. I got this in at the LAST MINUTE (literally staring at the 9/27 date as I type this), you have no idea how much STRESS and PANIC I've endured but no matter what I didn't want to leave some sorry excuse for an outline for you all. I legit hated writing this, loved the idea, hated all the stress that came with it, but I've committed to it, got a wonderful artist, and I was just like "Yeah, I really have to do this now."  
I've noticed that the theme of this year's SQSN might be "Sudden" or "Rushed" because I'm sure a lot of other authors ran out of time as well. It is Crazy, man. I don't think I've done my job in three weeks now lol
> 
> If you managed to get this far: congrats to you, you managed to get through all that mess, and thank you. Thank you for reading.  
I'm expecting some trolls this year considering what the topic of my fic is *stares at the Major Character Death tag* so wish me luck! lol
> 
> Am I going to do SQSN next year? Maybe. Maybe not. I do have an idea but who knows. I'm also planning on spending a few months not working next year so I might be less stressed for it haha

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [But what if there was no time [ ART ]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20388775) by [mippippippi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mippippippi/pseuds/mippippippi)


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